Sharp Edges
by S.K.Evans
Summary: Meet Cloud, the guy who knows more than he should. Then, meet Tifa, who tries her best not to strangle him. Secrets are revealed and lies uncovered. What do you do when your world comes crashing down? AU
1. new girl, new school, and old town

**A/N: **The first eight or so chapters **need to be written all over again**. They were written more or less 5 years ago, when I was beginning to learn English, and the story was not fully planned. Just a warning. Once the sory is finished, I will edit them.

_—_

**Chapter 1 : **_new girl, new school, old town_

_—  
_

_Dear Diary,_

_Actually, I think it's creepy and far too normal to start with 'Dear Diary', but I lack imagination. I mean, come on, everyone begins with that little line. I think that from now on, I will refer to you as The Notebook (no link with the book and movie). So hi Notebook!_

_God, I need to sleep._

_Tomorrow is my first day at Nibelheim High, and also the beginning of my last year of high school. I think I'll go to Midgar after; I heard their music program is one of the best. I heard strange things about this school, though (Nibelheim, not Midgar). Friday, when I came back from the school to get my papers, I noticed that some of the teenagers were wearing a black bandana around their arms or foreheads, or even necks. And all the ones with black bandanas were huddled together on one side of the street; people without bandanas or with a grey one were on the other side._

_I guess I'll learn more about it tomorrow, or should I say in a few hours? I'm so nervous I can't sleep. I'm back in my hometown but nobody seems to remember our family. Granted, I left when I was two. But still, we buried my mom here 10 years ago. I thought people would actually wave and say ''Look! The Lockhearts are back!'' No, everywhere I go I see frowns, strange looks, pity, and confusion on people's faces._

_What's going on here?_

—

Nibelheim. Great. Just great. What in the world had her father been smoking when he had decided to come here? Some pretty strong shit, Tifa Lockheart thought. The city was small, at the other end of the world; the temperature was cold for the beginning of September, and the only attraction was a teenager hangout –a small café that didn't seem to serve only coffee–, which she didn't even dare to approach yet.

Next to her, in the driver's seat, her father was humming. Mr. Lockheart was quite happy to come back in their hometown –and she didn't have a fucking clue why. He had bought a Victorian looking house in the richer residential part of the town and had even engaged a cook and a maid.

''_Because I'll have to travel a lot to Midgar for the company, and I don't want you to do everything in the house alone, sweetie.''_

Yeah, right, like she'd believe that. Tifa knew of her father's drunken antics. He'd go travelling for some weeks, sometimes months, come back exhausted, and with his credit card's bill higher than ever. Oh well, she thought, let him do whatever he wants. It's not like she really needed him after all. With her father's frequent absences and her mother's early death, she had raised herself.

The car came to a stop, and Tifa opened her eyes to stare at her new school. _Nibelheim High _was written in faded gold letters on a dirty brass besides the door. Tifa eyed the school warily. Everything about the building screamed low-money. Christ, they couldn't even clean the entrance of the school. From where she was, she could see the more than full trash bins on the school lawn. She groaned. She wasn't that spoiled, but after going to a private school for the biggest part of her life, this public establishment seemed inferior.

''Come one, sweetie. You don't want to be late on your first day of school.''

''Breathe, Dad,'' she muttered. ''It's not like they want to see me.''

And it's not like I wanna go in there, she thought.

Mr. Lockheart squinted his eyes and glared at his daughter. Without telling him goodbye, Tifa picked up her backpack and jumped out of the car. She recognized the look on her father's face, the one that came before a long and boring lecture about respect. She scowled at the retreating vehicle. Perhaps if she had begged him not to go, he would have listened to her and cancel her inscription at Nibelheim High.

As if, Tifa thought bitterly. She sighed and zipped up her black jacket. She was half-tempted to bring the hood up to hide her face. That way people would leave her alone. Perhaps. After what she had seen Friday she wasn't sure about this school social system. There was probably an It crowd like in every other school; surely there was jocks, preppy kids, cheerleaders, punks, nerds, geeks, Goths, skaters, everything. And one look at the courtyard confirmed her guess.

Tifa immediately knew she would be labelled. At her old school, Midgar Academy, people labelled each other, but she had never really fitted in a crowd. She had friends, and every one of them was different. Anyway, there had been uniforms, too. But here, it was an enormous jungle. Tifa knew that right away. If you weren't 'normal', you were rejected. Quickly, she glanced at herself. Faded blue jeans that were ripped and had holes in the knees, deep red tank top, black Vans with hot pink laces, black zipped-up hoodie, a thumb ring and tear drop earrings, some eyeliner and mascara, dark brown hair pulled up in a ponytail, and scarlet nail polish.

She looked good, and she knew it. She breathed deeply.

''Time to enter Hell…'' she whispered to herself.

—

Tifa was making her way toward the entrance when the whole courtyard suddenly became silent. She turned around, curious. Everyone was staring at the school's doors, which had just opened to reveal three teenagers. One was a short girl with equally short black hair who was bouncing on her toes. She was holding a redhead's hand and was whispering to him. The other guy was standing still, a smug smirk on his face. He had spiky ebony black hair, a dark blue long-sleeved shirt and jeans that screamed money. He was playing with something in his pocket that made a jingling sound -probably his keys, Tifa thought.

''And here come the popular kids!'' Tifa muttered under her breath.

A tall blonde girl looked at her with an expression akin to curiosity. She opened her mouth but whatever she had to say was cut by the sound of a car coming their way. At the sight of the vehicle, she knew she had been wrong in the first place. The persons _inside_ the sleek silver automobile were The Popular kids. Every single person in the crowd stood on their tiptoes to watch. Tifa wrinkled her nose in disgust. This school was already on her black list, but with all these students looking ready to kiss the ground the It crowd walked on, it only sank lower in her esteem.

Slowly, the car came to a stop in front of the school's steps, and the driver's door opened. Tifa immediately knew the driver was a girl; guys wouldn't make that much of a dramatic entrance. Surely, a girl stepped out without hurry. Tifa almost snorted at the pathetic view. But she had to admit that the young woman was beautiful. She would have been short -5'3'', perhaps 5'4''– if it weren't for the three inches heels. She was dressed in a pink summer dress, and her long chestnut hair was twisted down her back with a pink ribbon. A few curly bangs framed her face in a lovely way, and her emerald green eyes sparkled, full of life. In short, she looked straight out of a magazine.

Tifa blinked; this girl radiated gentleness and simplicity. Perhaps it was the pink colour. Christ, even her messenger bag and nail polish and heels were pink. It was so lively that it hurt her eyes. Tifa noticed a sudden movement on her left. The black haired guy had strolled down the steps, grinning. He stopped in front of the girl and engulfed her in a tight hug. Some students began to applause and almost everyone followed suited. Soon, the deafening sound of hundred of people clapping and cheering thundered in the courtyard.

Tifa was left dumbfounded on the sidelines. What was that? Was this school in love with a couple of horny teenagers who probably slept around and pretended to love each other? Probably. After everything she had seen in the past few days it wouldn't a surprise. Tifa moaned mentally. She just wanted to go home damn it! Right now she only wished to be invisible. Disappear and never come back. That would be so good…

''Get out of the car, idiot!''

Tifa looked up. The black haired guy was thumping in mock annoyance on the car's passenger window. He jumped back when the door opened abruptly. From her spot, all Tifa could see was a backpack flying out of the car and hitting Black Hair straight in the face. He groaned and gripped in nose. She could see he was faking from here but the other guy didn't seem to care.

''Shut up, Zack. The sound of your voice alone is giving me a headache.''

Zack stopped his acting and resumed grinning. Tifa frowned as the guy stepped out of the car. She could only see a mop of unruly and abnormally spiky blond hair resting on a head, which was, obviously, attached to a black-clad body. Baggy dark jeans, black Converse and white-stripped black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He was tall, though a few inches shorter than Zack. He and the blonde guy did the typical half-hug, half-handshake and walked toward the school, talking and laughing, the pretty girl at their side.

—

''You're new, right?''

Tifa turned her head to stare at the blonde girl from earlier. She nodded and offered her hand. The girl took it in a floppy handshake.

''Tifa.''

''I'm Elena, and I know you're dying to know what just happened.''

Tifa chuckled. They sauntered in the direction of the school. Some dark clouds had gathered and it was obvious there would be a storm later on. Tifa swallowed out of nervousness. She had always hated thunderstorm. Soon, she discovered that Elena lived out of gossip. The girl was friendly enough but the only thing she talked about other's people lives. Quickly growing annoyed, Tifa zoned off. Elena continued for another two minutes before nudging her and pointing to her schedule.

''What's your first class?''

''English,'' Tifa sighed.

''Nice! You have the same homeroom as me and my friends!''

Great, Tifa thought. If her friends were all like her she wasn't sure she would survive.


	2. ravens, wolves, and reno

**Chapter 2 : **_ravens, wolves, and Reno_

_—  
_

The moment she stepped inside the school, Tifa knew she had been very, very wrong to compare it to a freaking jungle. She was swimming in dangerous waters, and all the students surrounding were hungry sharks while she was just the lonely fish. Within five minutes of Tifa and Elena's arrival, everyone in the school had seen the _new girl._ They were all eyeing her like she was some sort of meat. She had never felt more observed in her life.

God, could these people be more pathetic? Probably not, Tifa thought. She sighed, rummaging through her things to find her schedule. She had memorized it last night, but she didn't remember her locker's number and combination. Still ignoring Elena's incessant chatter, she strolled by the seemingly endless rows of lockers until she found number 420. She opened it rapidly and threw her afternoon books without a care. She turned around, intent on getting some answers.

''Elena, care to explain what happened earlier?''

''You weren't listening, were you?'' the blonde asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tifa sighed for what seemed the hundred time this morning and leaned against her locker, hugging her books to her chest as she glared at everyone who stared at her.

''I was distracted, sorry.''

Elena just shrugged. She mimicked Tifa's pose and started examining her nails.

''Listen well this time,'' Elena said seriously, tapping a perfectly manicured finger on her chin. ''This school is divided in two groups: the wolves, and the ravens. Don't ask me why, it's been like that for years.'' She laughed slightly. ''When you're a wolf, you're popular, liked. To put it simply, the ravens are freaks.''

Elena grinned then. Tifa gaped at her, speechless. This school was more fucked up then she had originally thought. So _that_ was what the bandanas were for. She eyed the other girl warily, playing with the end of her long ponytail.

She loathed gangs like these. For sure, Zack was the leader of the wolves. His immense display of power a moment ago proved it. People worshipped the ground he, his blond friend, and the gorgeous girl walked on. She slid down, crouching, observing the yellowish tiles. She buried her face in her books and groaned. Elena giggled, reaching down to pat her shoulder.

''Don't worry, Tifa. I'll explain it all to you later. But for now, be prepared.''

''So you're telling me that I absolutely have to fit in a crowd?''

''Yes, but I think you could easily be part of the wolves. Saves you a lot of trouble, you know.'' Elena shrugged, and then glanced at her expensive looking watch. ''We're gonna be late!''

She grabbed Tifa's hand and dragged her down the corridor, toward their next class.

Great, Tifa thought as the second warning bell sounded and the hall emptied of the remaining students. Now she was going to be late to reinforce the cliché of the new student. Just great.

—

She and Elena barged in the classroom breathing heavily. Leave it to Elena to forget that the English Wing was on the other side of the school. Tifa watched as the young woman made her way toward an empty desk next to the short girl she had seen this morning. Slowly, she walked to another vacant desk in the back of the class, passing the redhead she had seen outside. She stepped over his bag, catching a vague reek that she knew too well –alcohol. The teacher wasn't there yet, but as soon as she was seated, he came running through the door. Tifa took an instant dislike to him. He wasn't really tall, with grey hair in a military cut, and _shiny _teeth. He had a wattage smile that seemed entirely false that Tifa couldn't help but find creepy.

''We are supposed to have a new student today. Could,'' he looked down at his papers, pursing his lips, ''Tifa Lockheart stand up, please?''

All heads snapped toward her. Tifa blinked calmly, standing up. Sharks, she thought grimly. She almost grimaced but smiled her best 'I'm-so-_not-ecstatic-_to-be-here' smile. She saw a few guys snicker, but she refrained her glare.

''Hello Tifa. My name is Mr. Fitzpatrick, and as you know, I'm your new English teacher for this year.'' He passed a head through his -greasy, Tifa noticed with disgust– hair, and smirked. ''Tell us a few things about yourself. Just the usual cliché, you know, because I'm pretty sure you don't have a clue about what to say.''

Tifa merely raised an eyebrow. She eyed the door for less than a second. The thought of running crossed her mind but she quickly brushed it away. She crossed her arms and ignored the mocking stares she received. Her entire attention was focused on Mr. Fitzpatrick.

''I'm sure you all know now, but my name is Tifa Lockheart. I'm from Midgar, but I was born here. As for a few _cliché_ things that I like, seeing as I have _zero_ imagination, well,'' she drawled. ''You know, long walks on the beach at midnight, roses, poems, romantic suppers by candlelight, serenades. Ah,'' she mock-sighed, putting a hand on her chest.

A few students barked a laugh, which they quickly covered in their hands upon catching Mr. Fitzpatrick's fuming expression. The redhead guy from the morning blinked at her.

''Dude, are you _serious_?''

''Yes, _dude_, I was being serious,'' she snapped, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

He only stared at her wide-eyed. Tifa made a clicking sound with her tongue and shook her head in pure disbelief.

''No, you see, that was sarcasm.''

''You're an idiot.'' This time, he rolled his eyes and made a move to turn around.

''Excuse me? I'm an idiot? Christ, I don't have time to waste on people like you.'' She made a move to sit back. Mr. Fitzpatrick –who had been watching the whole exchange with a raised eyebrow and a twinkle in his faded blue eyes– opened his mouth but the redhead beat him to it.

''People like me?''

Tifa made a show of slow clapping. No wonder this school's system was so fucked up; with students like these…

''Can you be slower than this? God, you're dumber than I thought. People like you aren't worth anything. You smoke, you drink, you sleep around, you screw over you grades for the reputation, and you are a jock. Quite the stereotype don't you think?''

She put a hand on her hips, balancing her weight on one foot. Every student gaped at her, especially the redhead. He blinked several times. Tifa wanted to laugh.

''And please, _Reno_, close your mouth,'' she added, pointing a scarlet painted nail at him.

He shook his head and held up his hands in a ''don't shoot me'' gesture.

''How do you know all this shit about me?'' he asked with wide eyes.

Tifa couldn't stop herself; she snorted, then grinned, motioning at the ground.

''Your bag is open and all the content is on the floor, idiot. In case you didn't know, you have in there a box of condoms, cigarettes, and a failed test, but you have a book about politics, which certainly means you aren't that much of an imbecile. You smell of liquor, I noticed when I passed by you. Already drunk in the morning?'' she carried on with smug victory in her voice. ''And by the way, you're wearing a jersey with you name on it.''

They glared at each other for a few seconds before a loud and deep laughter erupted from a guy, which she recognized as Zack. He was sitting sideways across his chair and watching her with amused sea-blue eyes. Tifa almost shuddered. His stare was intense; it had been long since she had felt naked under a simple gaze. He smirked with an air of high of arrogance, like he dominated the world. And it was practically true, she though with a faint distaste. He ruled the school, and in all probability, the town as well.

''I like you, girl. You've got some spunk.''

_Welcome to the wolves. It's now or never._


	3. the system, yelling, and another jerk

**Chapter 3: **_the system, yelling, and another jerk_

_—  
_

_Hey Notebook,_

_So I'm currently in my mechanic class. The teacher is a weird guy by the name of Cid Highwind. I like him. He's different from any other teachers I had this morning. The worst was Mr. Fitzpatrick. He thinks he's so great and all because he has some power over the students. Highwind is…particular. He swears at us, yells for no reasons, and even hit Reno (yay!) over the head. It was pretty funny. Made my day._

_Back to the teachers. Fitzpatrick tried to humiliate me this morning. He's such an asshole; he decided that I was disturbing his class and sent me to the Principal's office. I didn't do anything wrong! Okay, I argued with Reno, but he had it coming. And it's not like that idiot could actually say something that makes sense. ''__**Dude**__, are you serious?'' I __**hate**__ being called 'dude'. Who does he th-_

_Oh my god! Highwind caught me writing! He even began to read the first lines, but seeing as I wasn't badmouthing him he almost let it pass. He laughed out loud at the Reno part; he clapped me on the back rather hard, but it wasn't a gesture meant to hurt. I guess it was his way to tell me I rocked his socks. Nah, I'm kidding. He actually sent me to the Principal's office –again! And the principal is __**freaky.**__ A Mr. Shinra; I know he has a son named Rufus (what kind of name is that?), and that he is a senior like me._

_So now I'm waiting for the principal to finish shouting at a student. I can't distinct what he's saying, but the guy/girl in there must be going deaf. Oh wait, it's a guy; Shinra just said (roared is more like it): ''Insolent son-of-a-bitch!'' I guess it's a guy then. Wonder that he did. Probably skipped school on the first day… some shit like that. I'm kind of scared. I __**don't**__ wanna go in there; I bet Shinra has a gun or a sword to kill annoying people… Or perhaps that's just my overactive imagination going at it again._

_On another note, I officially joined the wolves. Elena told me I broke a record: I was accepted within less than five minutes of conversation. I learned a few things about the ''system''. To get in, it's not that complicated. Almost all the students here went to middle school together: that's when the gangs were made. So, to be accepted into a gang, the concerned person has to talk with the leader of the group, or do something to ''show his or her worth''. I guess that's what I did, although it's not very difficult to argue with Reno and win. Elena also told me that there's another way to get in- she wanted to do it this way for me, but I guess there is no need for her plans anymore. Basically, someone of ''importance'' on the group has to present the ''new recruit'' (I love calling them that) to the leader – Zack – and said leader has to approve of the person. It's stupid; everything in here is fucked up. I don't give a flying fuck in which gang I am, but fate had other ideas for me. I swear, my conversation with Zack went like this (I really am not kidding):_

''_I like you, girl. You've got some spunk.''_

''_Okay, thanks, I guess.''_

''_Reno's a sore loser, but don't worry about it.'' (insert mental evil cackling on my part here) ''You're a wolf now, he has to forgive you.''_

''_Nice.''_

''_I'll talk to you at lunch, babe.''_

''_Sure.''_

''_Lockheart, to the principal's office, now!''_

_So that was it. Pretty interesting, don't you think? I think not. When I got to the Evil Lair # 2 (number one being Fitz-fucking-patrick's classroom, in which I will have to face Satan every freaking morning of my senior year), Shinra signed me a pass, told me to wait into the library and to shut up. I nodded and walked extremely rapidly (I did not run!) to get out. I got lost and never found the library, so I waited outside my next classroom. My Math class was… boring. I got History, and then French after. Both classes were normal. Miss Crescent, my French teacher, is a young woman in her twenties, and she can't handle a class to saver her life. I give her two weeks before she does a burnout. Mechanic classes are cool enough. Highwind said we would work in a garage after November. It's part of our grade though. I hope I'll do okay._

_The yelling just stopped. I think they'll be coming out soon. Wish me luck._

Tifa quickly hid her journal in her backpack as the door opened. A guy with long raven black tied up at the base of his neck came out, looking a little dazed. His iris appeared red in the light. She couldn't really tell if he was wearing contacts –or if she wasn't just hallucinating- but she was sure of one thing: his eyes were bloodshot, meaning he had probably got stoned.

So that's why Shinra was so angry, Tifa thought. Certainly it wasn't the first time it had happened; she could tell by Shinra's more-purple-than-red figure. Carefully, she stood up and walked toward the principal, shooting a sideway glance at the strange kid. He stared at something besides her face, and frowned. Tifa raised an eyebrow out of curiosity. Was there something behind her, or wasn't he just able to concentrate enough to focus on her face? He passed her silently, and when he nearly was out of the waiting room's door, Shinra called him back, ''Valentine! If I catch you another time –just one!– you're expulsed! I hope you heard me, boy!''

Valentine? Tifa remarked with amusement. She hoped for the guy's sakes that it was it last name. ''Valentine'' gave an imperceptible nod, before wandering out, but not without almost losing his balance a few times. Tifa sighed out of pity. At her old school, the stoners were out the first time they were caught. Midgar Academy had zero tolerance for drugs.

The young girl turned back to Shinra, who was glaring at her with his arms crossed on his enormous torso. If looks could kill, Tifa had no doubt she would be dust by now.

''You again? What's you name already?''

''Tifa Lockheart, sir. And before you ask, Mr. Highwind sent me here.''

Shinra grunted and closed his eyes in what seemed like exasperation. Tifa swallowed; trouble was coming. And she would make sure to never break one of the most important rules at Nibelheim High again:

Thou Shalt Never Mess With Cid Highwind.

If she had to see Shinra this pissed off every time she would come down here, she'd rather avoid strife with Highwind at the risk of being a saint in class.

''I see…'' Shinra cleared his throat. ''The bell is going to ring soon. You can go, but if I see you here again this week you'll be getting detention for two complete weeks, including Saturdays.''

Tifa gaped at him. Two whole weeks of detention? She would be a fucking saint, all right. Before she'd get detention once in a while, but nothing drastic. If she had to stay after school for weeks after only a few days of class, her father would throw a fit.

''Is that clear Miss Lockheart?''

''Yes, sir,'' she nodded, clutching at her bag's strap.

He grunted, and dismissed her with a wave of his hand. Tifa let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. Two freaking weeks? Thanks God she usually wasn't a bad student. Today was something she would never repeat again.

''And Miss Lockheart,'' Shinra's voice reached her a second before she turned away. He was in his office's doorway, back facing her.

''Detention tonight. I need to give Highwind his fun after all,'' he slammed the door behind him, leaving her to stare at the Principal sign on the hazy window.

Tifa's jaw dropped to the ground. No fucking way.

—

The halls were empty when she came out of the office. She had lunch next, with Zack and his pose. Zack, she wondered, sliding down a locker to sit on the –dirty– floor, and pulling out her Mp3 player of her backpack. She put on the mini headphones, and then dropped her bag unceremoniously besides her. Who was this guy, really? All she knew was that his name was Zack Fair, that he was 18 years old, and that he held an immense power over the school. She couldn't help but ask herself if adults listened to him, too. His only presence was intimidating. And God, his eyes! His deep midnight blue eyes –with a hint of violet– were so… penetrating and it was like he saw through you, like he knew what you were going to say.

And it was true, in a sense, Tifa mused. He was used getting what he wanted –anyone could see it just by the way he walked and looked down at everyone. When he had asked her to join the wolves, he had known her answer would be yes. And she hated that; she hated that he could predict everything: people were scared of him and his influence, so they would do everything he asked and desired.

Tifa shuddered at the thought. Such power didn't really exist, she repeated to herself. He couldn't… couldn't govern more than three hundred of students just because of what? Because he was the fucking leader of a ridiculous gang. Oh pardon, she mocked mentally, of the _wolves._ And what was the deal with those groups? That guy from earlier… Valentine? Well, this guy was a raven for sure. The way Elena had explained it the ravens were what high school students commonly called ''the freaks.''

Tifa rested her head on the locker, closing her eyes. She augmented her music's volume, but a faint tapping sound was disturbing her train of thoughts. Looking up, she was startled seeing the before empty corridor now cramming with seniors and freshman and juniors and sophomores. She eyed them critically. Were they all in the gang system? Did they even have a word to say about that? Were they first given the choice like her? Was there some anti-ravens/wolves gang? If yes, she was seriously half-tempted to join them.

And all this thinking was giving her a freaking headache. The loud chatter around her wasn't helping though. And there was this voice yelling besides her.

''Hey!''

Someone not so gently kicked at her feet and threw his or her bag on her lap. The motion seemed similar, though Tifa couldn't replace it. Irked, she pressed the pause button of her Mp3 player, standing up after throwing the bag on her left side. Her bangs were falling in her face, so she tossed her hair back, glaring all the while at a black-clad figure. The guy had a hoodie shadowing his face, but she could see golden blond hair peeping out. For some unknown reason his hair colour reminded her of a chocobo feather. Tifa wrinkled her nose; those giant birds raised on special farms always brought the bad out of her.

Chocobo Hair had his back to her, doing his lock combination. She pulled out the headphones and heard him mutter curses under his breath. What, he couldn't even open his locker? God, he had to be dumber than Reno. She resisted an unladylike snort; she never understood people and their habits concerning lockers; hers always opened on the first try.

Tifa saw the guy stiffen. Frowning, she made a move to crouch down to get her bag, but it met her before she could actually take action. Puzzled –and angry-, she turned around wildly to shout at the blond-haired culprit but he was already a good ten feet away.

''Go to hell!'' she screamed anyway, too frustrated to care.

The guy stopped, but didn't face her, ''I am…insulted by your comments, even if I don't know what is worse,'' he paused, letting out a light chuckle. ''Be compared to Reno, or you calling me dumb?''

Tifa froze. She had spoken aloud? Oh.

Oops.

''Uh…'' she groaned, speechless. She hated apologizing when she wasn't even feeling sorry.

Chocobo Hair laughed slightly again, and she could hear the smirk in his voice.

''And we wonder who's dumb.''

He 'tsked' in a condescending tone, pulling at Tifa's self-control. He was like a freaking chocobo, bringing out the bad in her. She opened her mouth to reply, but was suddenly engulfed in an enormous bear hug. She shrieked as someone pulled her off the ground and spun her around, laughing loudly.

''How's my second favourite girl?''

Goddamn it.

She knew this laugh, this voice.

Zack.

Just what she needed. But even though his attitude got to her, she had to admit he was kind of fun. Not every guy would have gone around and spun her in circles after an almost one-sided conversation. She knew, by his voice, that he was genuine. Arrogant, but truthful; she could tell right away.

Zack deposed her on the ground, full grin shining. His dark blue sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, exposing his muscled forearms. Tifa found herself staring at them, for his hands were on her waist, and she wouldn't –couldn't- look into his eyes for fear of shrinking under their intensity again. Her resolve was shattered not even a second later; Zack tweaked at her chin, making her look up. She gave him her best glare, but his smile only blossomed. Around them, the hall was emptying; the students were all in the cafeteria, and Tifa longed to join them.

''Cat got your tongue, Tifa?'' Zack asked with a raised eyebrow and a twinkle in his eyes.

Must…not…cower. Do _not _look up. She couldn't do it. His gaze held some kind of magnetism, and it attracted her; one look, and she couldn't withdraw.

Finally remembering that he was, indeed, talking to her, Tifa said, dryly, ''Second? I'm hurt, Zackie boy.''

If possible, Zack's grin got bigger. And not even Tifa and her sardonic personality could twist the sparkle of love glinting in his almost violet eyes. When he spoke next, his voice had a softer edge to it, although it was really low.

''Second in my heart, first in my harem.''

Tifa rolled her eyes, smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She smacked him playfully. Perhaps she had judged him too fast; he wasn't so bad after all.

''And who's the lucky lady?''

''Aerith,'' he breathed out.

''You really love her.''

She had intended for it to be a question, but it came more as a fact. There was no denying of his affections for the girl. They were whispering by now, but neither seemed to notice. The air became thick all of the sudden, and Tifa grew a little uncomfortable. She rocked back and forth on her heels, not knowing what to say. Zack didn't seem to have this problem, for a few seconds later, he snapped back to reality and his ever-present grin returned, wattage turned on to maximum. He swiftly presenter her his back, crouching down.

''No,'' Tifa stated, realizing what he wanted.

''Come on,'' Zack whined. '''S just a piggy-back ride.''

''And what would your girlfriend think?''

''I piggyback Yuffie all the time, and she doesn't say shit. She trusts me,'' he added solemnly.

His face stayed humourless, his gaze more intense than usual, but Tifa couldn't support the sudden seriousness. It started up as a little giggle, but soon it exploded in a full laugh. She clutched her sides, index pointing at Zack's incredulous face. His eyes widened in realization, and he let out a deep growl.

''You're laughing at me!'' he accused.

''Am not.''

''Are too!''

''Am not!''

Zack's mouth opened and closed repeatedly. Out of the blue he hissed, ''I'll prove it to you that I was saying the truth. Now,'' he picked up her backpack and shouldered it on his front, then showed her his back again, ''hop on, girl!''

Tifa stayed still for a moment, before giving a resigned sigh.

''Alright, Zackie, you win.''

She jumped on his back, and he let out an exaggerated choking sound. Tifa told him she wasn't suffocating him –unfortunately.

''Well, your bag weights more than you, Lockheart. What the hell do you have in there? The dead heads of your victims?''

''No, those are too precious to carry around,'' Tifa said, trying to sound sombre, but failing miserably.

On the way to the cafeteria, they made small chatter, crossing path with a few students whom she now knew as wolves, and Zack showed her where the library was. He came to a stop a few feet away from what she supposed where the open lunchroom's doors. He asked her if she was going to be okay, and she gave an approving noise in return.

But the truth was, she had never been more anxious in her life.

—

love :

**Niquie, Bluishorbs, Ch0knat, XxCAUSE The System To FallxX, samuraidrive, Yuleen75, Moving-at-the-speed-of-Alli & Toons!**


	4. sorry, anger, and stand up for yourself

**I forgot the disclaimer… oh well, here it is:**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Final Fantasy VII, Mars bar, or whatever other brand I might mention throughout this story. Voila.

_—_

**Chapter 4 : **_sorry, anger, and stand up for yourself_

_—  
_

When they walked in the cafeteria, silence did not ensue nor did people throw things, but Tifa knew she had been noticed. She entering the room on Zack's back was bound to trigger rumours. The wolves' leader didn't seem affected by it; he was humming peacefully, sometimes adjusting her or her bag. Hundred of eyes followed them, and yet Tifa did not cower from their inquisitive gazes. They could think whatever they wanted, but she wasn't a weakling.

The beautiful girl from this morning –Aerith, she guessed– stood up at their entry and glided toward them, a grin able to compete with Zack's plastered on her face and showing impeccable white teeth. Tifa felt a surge of jealousy; she was pretty, and she knew it, but this girl was stunning. Back at Midgar, she'd been one of the most admired girls, if only for her looks. Now, being used to the fame, she felt outdone.

''Hey, babe.''

''Aerith.''

Aerith smiled serenely, her emerald eyes sparkling with unreleased glee. Tifa blinked twice; this girl looked so naïve! She was certain that Aerith would follow a stranger home to help them look for his or her dog, unconcerned by the may-be consequences.

''Hello, Tifa Lockheart. Welcome.''

_You've been officially and completely accepted. No turning back now._

Christ, her voice was so girly, but not in an annoying way. It was light and gentle, and Tifa ever suspected she could raise her voice to yell furiously. She couldn't see Zack's reaction, but there was no doubt that a brilliant smile had lit his face.

''Thanks,'' Tifa said uncertainly. ''It's an…honour?''

She didn't mean to make it a question, but how could she phrase her true feelings about this whole system? _Ah, thanks a lot Aerith! You and Zack seem like great people, but you know, you're both so fucked up! And those gangs you've created –even if I know you aren't the creators- are the perfect reflections of your absolutely not normal craziness. Yes I am very honoured to be part of the wolves. Really, believe my words._

Right.

And like Elena had said, being a wolf did have its advantages. She just hadn't seen them yet.

''You'll get used to it. Now come on, girl, let's go buy you some lunch!''

Zack deposited her on the ground without any delicacy and then innocently asked her if she had hurt herself. In her semi-fall, she had hit the column behind her, but otherwise, she was fine. She didn't tell him so though.

''You'll pay, Zack Fair! Oh, just wait and see, you arrogant asshole,'' Tifa yelled behind her shoulder with unconcealed mirth. Aerith laughed and linked arms with her, dragging the brunette toward the lunch line. ''God, he's so frustrating sometime!''

''You get used to his antics after a while. Took me years, but here we are,'' Aerith said, almost chirping.

They stood in the line, talking about everything under the sun and chortling at every funny comment. Finally, Tifa paid for her lunch, while Aerith stayed a little in retreat, having a homemade meal. The next moment happened so fast. Tifa was laughing and didn't see the spill on the floor. She stepped on it and immediately lost her balance, her tray flying out of her hands. Luckily, she managed not to fall by hanging on Aerith. All along, Tifa watched with growing horror as her plate full of spaghetti soared trough the air toward a girl who had completely frozen. She, too, was staring at the projectile, and she didn't move.

_Move, damn it! Move, you stupid girl!_

But she didn't budge. What Tifa wanted was for the plate to miss and land besides the teen. It wouldn't splatter right across the girl's stomach, and trail down her thighs to the floor. The girl wouldn't gape and look like a fish for more than ten seconds as the cafeteria would fall into silence. And Tifa wouldn't have to rush toward the girl with Aerith at her side.

''Oh my God! I'm so sorry!''

The girl only gazed at her with empty grey eyes, blinking profusely. Her face seemed to be stuck in an expression of complete astonishment, and she stayed still, her hands at her sides.

''God, Jessie, are you okay?'' Aerith asked softly, concern in her voice.

Jessie opened her mouth, and Tifa saw that she had braces. No sound came out, but her eyes hardened. She took a step backward, her fists clenching. She looked at them with a mix between hate and wonder; Tifa understood straightaway.

''Why are you talking to me?''

_She's a raven._

Tifa felt something tug at her heart. Where these guys treated that bad? Enough to hate _Aerith_, the sweetest girl she'd ever known? Well, Tifa thought, determined, things are about change. She grabbed Jessie's wrist and pulled her toward the doors. She tried to jerk out of Tifa's hold, and people in the cafeteria began to laugh. Noticing this, Tifa turned around, shot them a very vicious glare. "Shut up."

Everything was dead silent once again. From the corner of her eyes, Tifa caught sight of Zack staring at her intently, not uttering a word. That bastard.

''That's bullshit,'' Tifa turned to Jessie, who was gaping at her. She dragged her out of the room, Aerith following. The raven girl was walking fast, staring at her shoes. ''Those people are imbeciles; don't listen to them. Come on, we're gonna get you cleaned up.''

''I have spare clothes in my locker,'' Aerith said.

''I don't need them,'' Jessie mumbled, looking away.

Tifa rolled her eyes. That girl had no confidence -not even a spark.

''I do not care. You can't go around wearing a stained _white_ shirt.''

Ignoring Jessie's whimpers, they went to Aerith's locker. She opened it, humming, and thrust Jessie some clothes. To Tifa's amazement, they weren't pink. The jeans were a very faded light blue, and flared at the end. There was no shirt, but a red zipped-up hoodie.

''I only have my gym shirt, and I need it for next period,'' Aerith explained.

Jessie didn't say word, only stared warily at the clothes in her hands. She shook her head, and Tifa saw why.

''They won't fit me.''

''Nonsense. Come on, let's get you changed.''

This time, Aerith took hold of Jessie's arm, leading her toward the nearest washroom, a few feet away. It was practically empty when they entered, and Jessie rushed for one of the empty stalls. She came out, and Tifa almost frowned. Jessie had been right –Aerith's clothes were a little too small for her, especially since she was taller. Sighing, Tifa decided to help her.

''Aerith, you can go back. I'll wash her clothes, seeing as I'm responsible for this mess.''

Her friend sent her a curious gaze, but nodded nevertheless. Once she was gone, Tifa started examining Jessie. She was slightly shorter than her, and kind of chubby. Her long mousy brown hair was pulled up in a braid, and her glasses kept sliding of her nose. She kept wriggling her hands, anxious. Tifa jumped off the counter, went to one of the stalls, and removed her own jeans, throwing them to Jessie.

''These should be okay. Hand me Aerith's, please.''

When silence met her ears, she frowned out of annoyance.

''Fuck, Jessie, I'm trying to help you.''

She heard a defeated sigh, and soon after she had Aerith's jeans on.

''So, a little more comfortable?'' she asked Jessie, taking back her place near the sinks.

''Yeah. Th-thanks.''

''No problem. It was my fault after all,'' Tifa shrugged. ''Tell me,'' she began cautiously, ''why didn't you move back there? It was like you had… I dunno, _accepted _you fate, except it was only spaghetti, not some big bad thing coming to get you.''

She let out a nervous chuckle when she realized how stupid she sounded. Jessie didn't answer her immediately, but she saw the understanding in her eyes.

''I guess… You know, it was always bad for me. But you're a wolf,'' she laughed bitterly and closed her eyes. ''You _can't_ know what I'm talking about.''

They stayed silent, Tifa staring and Jessie hugging her middle protectively. Finally, Jessie continued, ''The way those people shut up when _you_ told them to… Tifa, you have as much power as Aerith and Zack, and it's not even the end of the first day yet. They would ha-''

''That's fucking bullshit,'' Tifa said angrily for the second time. ''I don't have that much power, and I don't even want it,'' she scoffed. ''I just told Reno to shut up. That's not difficult; a five years old child could do it.''

''When you entered the cafete-''

''Zack insisted,'' Tifa cut in again. She was starting to get pissed off at Jessie for being such a weak person.

''You still became friend with him and Aerith af-''

''For God's sakes!'' she yelled. ''Zack and Aerith could get along with everyone if they wanted to! What's wrong with you people? Don't tell me you fucking hate _Aerith_! _Aerith_, Jessie! She's the sweetest person to ever walk this goddamn Planet.''

''I don't hate her; I don't hate you,'' Jessie whispered inaudibly.

''Then what's wrong? Just fucking stand up for yourself.''

Jessie shook her head, muttering under her breath. Tifa couldn't take it anymore. She got back on her feet and headed for the door.

''Sorry for your clothes,'' and she walked away.

—

How could someone be so weak? Tifa had a hundred questions swirling in her head while strolling toward the vending machine. Elena had seen the whole thing and had pointed to her a semi-dark corner, telling her that ''chocolate is the best remedy for the soul besides shopping.''

Right.

Perhaps Elena was a tiny bit too dramatic, but it was the intention that mattered.

The vending machine was situated in a shady alcove, with no lights on, just a small window, which let the sunlight pass and gave a bluish air to the place. It was kind of creepy, actually. Two guys were talking in hushed whispers on her right. She ignored them and went to the chocolate machine. She pushed the money through the slot, replacing what she didn't need in one of her pockets. She pressed the button for a Mars bar, bent down to pick it up and turned around to go back at her table. That was, until she heard a low growl and a colourful list of curses coming from her right. Surprised, Tifa looked at the source of disturbance. A pair of aquamarine eyes met her burgundy ones for less than a second. Wisps of golden blond hair escaped from the black hood. He was pinned against the wall, though it seemed like he could easily push back his assailant. His hands were in his pockets; he looked calm, almost relaxed.

Chocobo Hair.

Tifa raised an eyebrow at the scene. The guy holding him on the faded grey-blue wall was shorter and –to her complete incredulity- had long straight _silver_ hair that came to his shoulders. He was wearing _leather pants_, something she downright loathed, and a tight black muscle shirt. It looked way to small on the guy, who, in truth, had nothing to show off. He wasn't much older than 14. One word crossed her mind as the sight of the boy.

Awkward.

He looked totally awkward, gauche even. He was mumbling fiercely, unaware of her approaching presence.

''Is something wrong?'' she asked slowly, crossing her arms on her chest.

Awkward boy loosened his grip and turned sharply, hissing, ''Nothing, nothing. Go away, bitch.''

Tifa's eyes widened. How dare he? She uncrossed her arms, ready to hit him. A hand on her wrist and a smooth but furious voice stopped her, ''Tell him he'll get his fucking money soon enough. Get out of my sight now, Kadaj.''

Apparently, Kadaj (what kind of name was that?) had other ideas. He pointed was Tifa supposed was a threatening finger at the blond guy.

''He wants it _now_, brother. Not tomorrow, _today_.''

Ew. Were they really _brothers_? And who the hell was this 'he'? Chocobo Hair still had a death grip on her wrist when Kadaj departed, marching at an angry pace. She jerked out of his hold and rubbed her arm, although it was kind of difficult seeing as she was still grasping her chocolate bar. Damn, this guy was strong.

''What the fuck? Did you, like, forget to pay for your drugs?''

He glared at her, though she still couldn't really see his face in the shadows.

''And you, _like_, never got rid of that annoying habit of yours, did you?''

''What habit?''

''The one where you open your mouth and sound comes out.''

Her eyes narrowed, and she followed him, trying to keep up with his long strides. He laughed slightly at her poor attempt.

''How long have you been waiting to use that one?''

''It just popped into my mind, actually,'' he replied smoothly.

''Right. And that guy pinning you against a wall was trying to make small talk.''

His steps never faltered, but she saw him stiffen. It lasted for no more than a second, and he called behind his shoulder, ''I don't make conversation with uneducated idiots.''

Tifa stopped. Refraining a yelp of frustration, she threw her chocolate bar at his head, missing by a couple of inches –more like feet, but she wasn't going to admit that. The candy hit another guy, who turned around vividly.

''What the fuck?''

Tifa stared open-mouthed at Reno as he searched the crows for a potential suspect. His green eyes landed on Chocobo Hair and he was up in an instant, lunging himself at the blond guy.

''STRIFE!'' he roared, trying to tackle him. Chocobo Hair jumped out of his range and dashed for the cafeteria doors. Reno didn't bother running after him; he had caught sight of Tifa, and he glowered. She smirked at him, waving and then blowing him a kiss. He only scowled in response. She made her way to her table, forgetting about the chocolate. She sat besides Elena, facing Zack and Aerith.

''God aim, Lockheart,'' Zack said with a grin.

She merely nodded; his lack of reaction during the Jessie scene still annoyed her. But what had she been expecting of him? Of the wolves' leader? Nothing more, but she had still hoped he would have done something.

Zack raised an eyebrow. Aerith elbowed him in the ribs and he shut up, giving her a questioning glance. During what was left of the lunch period, Tifa talked mostly with Elena and another of her friend, Yuffie. Yuffie, she found out, was Reno's on-and-off girlfriend for now a year. She was small girl –barely 5'1''- with short jet-black hair and lively grey eyes –unlike Jessie's. She wore a black and white bandana around her forehead, and she was originally from Wutai, having transferred last year. She was a sophomore, but already at the top.

Everything here, Tifa thought bitterly, was about popularity. It was starting to get on her nerves, a lot more than she had previously imagined.

She would have to do something about it.

—

**A/N: Kadaj is creepy… & what was Cloud doing with him, hmmm? Questions, questions…**

Huge thank-you's to the following people for reviewing or adding me on his or her alert/favorite list. & because you're just that cool.

**pangpond, Niquie, Yuleen75, , mischkaaa, Isler, BananaPeaceMonkey, XxFirst Class Flower GirlxX, .., Bluishorbs, Heroineofearth, Iwoon, mystic-few, reader713, ruckyrose, sportiegrl, weirdos of the world unite, nymphetamosa, Toons, falling2clouds & liloaznbrat714!**

That's a lot of people, but I'm really thankful.

**- pangpond: **Sephiroth isn't the leader of the Ravens' gang, but yes, as you could probably guess in this chapter, Kadaj, Loz & Yazoo are part of the gang. The leader is introduced in the next chapter…

**- BananaPeaceMonkey: **Nah, he can't. Tifa spoke out loud.

**- Yuleen75:** This story is CloudxTifa, Zack is just really out-going with everyone, even with people he just met.


	5. power, the elite, and detention

**Chapter 5 : **_power, the elite, and detention_

_—  
_

''Here comes the demon,'' Aerith muttered under her breath.

Tifa glanced at her, confused. Aerith was staring ahead of them. Tifa raised an eyebrow. An amazingly endowed blonde clad in a crimson super-short halter dress and wearing dangerous looking stiletto heels was walking lazily towards their table, but not before stopping at Reno's and sitting on his lap for less than twenty seconds –the time necessary to shove her tongue down his throat and steal his wallet while he was too busy. Tifa blinked several times. The girl got on her feet, her smile slow and arrogant, and she sauntered away from him, his belongings in her hand.

''That's Scarlet. She always does that to him.'' Tifa turned to Yuffie. She was grinning, but her beam had a bitter edge. _Of course_. Yuffie was Reno's on-and-off girlfriend, and she clearly still had feelings for him. ''I put an end to it last time,'' Yuffie answered her unspoken question. ''And that boob-job girl is the greatest slut I've ever seen. But what can I expect of him, hmm?''

Tifa had only known Yuffie for thirty minutes, but she could already tell that the younger girl was naturally cheerful, always optimistic. Right now, seeing her new friend looking that sour, her dislike for Reno only fuelled.

''Just smile like you don't give a damn –and you shouldn't by the way. She should go after awhile.''

Tifa nodded. Zack tried desperately to catch her eye like he had been doing for the past half-hour. She was still giving him a cold shoulder; she didn't trust herself and her sharp tongue after his (lack of) action. Aerith was throwing her puzzled looks, though Tifa could tell she understood half-heartily. Jessie hadn't returned to the cafeteria, probably too afraid or humiliated.

Scarlet, she thought as the glowing blonde sat herself at their table and deposed Reno's wallet in front of her. How fitting.

''I don't believe we've been presented,'' she purred at the brunette. She gave every guy around a good view of her cleavage, and Tifa resisted a roll of her eyes. She wanted to slap off the haughty smirk plastered on Scarlet's make-up covered face.

''And I don't believe we need one,'' Tifa replied in a bored voice. ''Your reputation precedes you.''

The look in Scarlet's green eyes hardened, but her posture relaxed.

''Now sweetie, don't trust everything you hear and see.''

''Oh, but I think I saw enough.'' She nudged her head in direction of Reno, who was laughing loudly. Likely sensing people staring at him, he turned around. He waved at everyone but Tifa, blowing her a kiss. Tifa gave him a one-finger salute in response, and he only laughed harder.

''As I was saying, I saw enough to confirm those rumours –as you call them.'' Tifa examined her nails nonchalantly. She could see Scarlet's well-composed expression from the corner of her eyes. She smiled. The girl was fuming inside.

''Let's talk about you, Tifa Lockheart. Giving people -_ravens_– words of wisdom. Trying to mend poor Jessie's heart.''

She had heard? Oh well, she must have been in one of the stalls.

"Well,'' she leaned forward on the table, crossing her arms in front of her. ''don't talk when you don't _know_ what the fuck you're talking about. Just shut up and stop giving people that attitude. Runs into your blood; the almighty impression. Let's not talk about your _mother!_''

Tifa jumped at this. She stood up abruptly, startling everyone except Scarlet. The blonde smirked knowingly. Tifa swore mentally. Here she was, losing her temper _again_ at someone she barely knew. What a day.

''Don't you dare say something about my mother,'' she hissed between gritted teeth. Everything was dead silence at the table, and even at those nearby. From the corner of her eyes, she saw something –someone- move but she didn't pay it more attention.

''What about your dead mom, Tifa? Want to know how she comple–''

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up!''

Tifa tried lunging herself at Scarlet. Keyword: tried. Someone had her arms in a vicious grip, holding her back. She wriggled, desperate to get free. The hold only tightened. Her breathing was ragged; her fury increased even more as she watched Scarlet grin smugly, a hint of malice sparkling in her emerald orbs.

''Don't. Talk. About. My. Mother.''

She made sure of detaching the words so they would be etched into the little slut's mind. Tifa tried once again to jerk free. Her restrainer grunted. Swiftly, he cocooned her fists in his much larger hands, placing his arms over hers and wrapping both their arms around her torso. For a moment Tifa thought she was blushing, for she felt her face heat up, but then she remembered –and thanked God for that- that she didn't blush easily.

"Calm down, babe,'' he whispered soothingly in her ear, his voice low and somewhat husky. She didn't let herself be affected by the tone or the endearing, which she would have normally sneered at; she knew it probably wasn't intentional. Tifa knew there was nothing romantic about the embrace –he had her in a death grip. He was only trying to save Scarlet (why would anyone want her to live, anyway? She was a cold-hearted bitch.)

"Isn't that cute?'' Scarlet drawled, a predatory smile gracing her red lips.

Tifa wanted to growl at her, to tear her perfect face to shreds- to _kill _her. She didn't know how Scarlet knew all that shit about her mom –and she wasn't too sure she wanted to know. She felt the guy holding her shift. He clutched her closer, almost putting her behind him.

"Fuck off, whore,'' he snapped. "Go plaster yourself over a horny bastard like you usually do. Your face is cutting everyone's appetite. You're not wanted here.''

The last part was said slowly and meaningfully. Tifa felt the urge to scoff. She wasn't the only one catching the double meaning of the words.

Scarlet stomped her foot, the stiletto heel clacking. She clenched her fists at her side, her face distorted in an ugly snarl.

"You don't have the power to make such a decision!'' she shrieked.

"Oh, but I do. Believe me, I'm happy to say goodbye to you and your hundred of STDs. I hope I never see you again, _raven_.''

At this point Tifa was openly smiling. Whoever that guy was, he was her new (temporary) hero. People had gathered around, creating a circle around the wolves. A lot were looking smug, others adopted an indifferent expression. The crowd stirred slightly, and Tifa was surprised to see Jessie step forward. She was still wriggling her hands in front of her, her cheeks were tomato red, but she held her head high, probably looking more confident than she felt.

"You heard him.''

Her voice almost cracked. Tifa sent her an encouraging smile; Jessie returned it hesitantly. On the other hand, Scarlet wasn't exactly put off by Jessie's three words warning. She opened her mouth but was cut off by a deep, tranquil voice.

"Shut up, Scarlet. You'd think that three person repeating the same thing would be enough.''

Zack was standing up. He had a lazy smirk on his handsome face, his hands in his pocket, a gesture that reminded her of Chocobo Hair. He approached Scarlet unhurriedly; making sure that everybody noticed him. He came to a stop not even a foot away from the blonde. He leaned in, smirk blossoming.

"Goodbye,'' he breathed out, but somehow, everyone heard him. Everyone was focused on him. On his display of power.

"You…you can't do that!'' she stuttered. "I'm part of the elite!''

Tifa frowned. The elite?

Zack was leering at her tear-streaked face. He reached down the collar of his dark blue shirt, bringing out a long chain. It was a silver tag necklace. On it was the design of a wolf. Tifa blinked.

_Wait a minute…_

She gazed at Aerith, and surely on her left wrist was clasped a charm bracelet, a wolf charm dangling. Then she moved to Yuffie. The girl also had necklace, though hers was a choker, a tiny wolf figure hanging by a small chain.

"I think I forgot my wallet here.''

Tifa glanced at Reno. For once, his face was serious, not a trace of amusement lingered. And, on his left bicep, was the tattoo of a wolf face.

Obviously, she hadn't been expecting this one. But how come she hadn't noticed it earlier? Oh, right; he had always been in diagonal of her, on her left. Still, she felt kind of stupid. She had played with fire. Whatever this 'elite' was, they were powerful. She knew that being a wolf granted power over the students of Nibelheim High, but being part of the elite probably was The Top. Tifa swallowed. All her new friends here apart from Jessie were wolves, and even more, were part of the elite. So that had been what Jessie had tried explaining to her, why everyone recognized her on the first day –she had befriended the elite. Tifa almost wrinkled her nose. These people were so full of shit.

Reno came to stand besides Yuffie, loosely resting his hand on her hip. She gave him a sideway glance; he smiled –a small one, but the emotion in his eyes made up for it. Yuffie nodded, attention returning to Zack and Scarlet.

"Show me proof, Scarlet. Show me that you're part of the _elite_.''

Silence fell upon the room. Zack nodded knowingly.

"Anyways, you know that happens to elite's traitor.''

"Zack.''

The voice rang clear and had a sharp edge to it. The speaker loosened his grip on Tifa's arms, though he didn't release her completely. Zack gave a nod again, this time directed towards her unknown restrainer. A sudden yelp caught everyone by surprise. Tifa turned around quickly, almost losing her balance.

"Easy.'' He chuckled, his breath hot on her neck. Tifa was beginning to feel uncomfortable in his hold.

An excessively broad guy broke through the mass of students, pushing those who were unfortunate enough to be in his way. His silver hair was cropped short and spiked at least six inches off his head. His jaw was square, a light stubble adding to his already rough appearance.

Tifa sucked in a breath. Silver hair.

"Kadaj's brother…''

"How clever.''

The Mystery Guy holding her snickered, his chin now resting on the top of her head. Her ponytail was probably stabbing his throat but at the moment she didn't give a damn. How many brothers did the little twerp have?

The strong-looking guy smirked, arms opened, seeming ready to hug.

"Come on, Scarlet, baby. I know you wanna play with me,'' he drawled, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Scarlet made a disgusted sound in the back of throat. Zack grinned.

"As you see, making new friends isn't that difficult.''

Some people laughed, some smiled, some scoffed. Tifa couldn't help the cackle that escaped her. The guy behind let out a soft chuckle, too.

"Isn't she a lucky girl,'' he whispered playfully in her ear.

Tifa elbowed him lightheartedly. He grunted, poking her side. She let out a small squeal. It was drowned by the growing murmur of the crowd. They couldn't even see Zack and Scarlet and the other slightly creepy guy –Kadaj's brother.

"Bell rang. I'm going. Try to restrain to atrocious temper of yours, Lockheart.''

He poked her again. Using this as a distraction to get away unseen, Tifa thought dryly when he released her pretty abruptly. She didn't bother turning around, for she knew what she would see: an endless sea of drama-hungry students.

Sharks, she clarified with an imperceptible shudder.

—

Mr. Hojo was a man in his fifties with long white-streaked black hair tied at the base of his neck and round glasses and small, squinty bright hazel eyes. They were his only nice features, and were ruined by the evil look he sent everyone. He was draped in a long stark white lab coat. He clutched his folder to his chest protectively, sending suspicious glare everywhere. He walked slowly, slightly hunched. His fingers were long and dirty, and the skin around the short nails was eaten.

And that, Tifa thought with disgust, was her science teacher.

The day just kept getting better. After the drama at lunch, she had gone to her science class, on the third floor. She had almost arrived late, and every single student was already sitting with his or her yearlong lab partner. People, she noticed, seemed to be scared of her. They sent her shy beam or hostile glances, small waves or forced, tight-lipped smiles. Nobody came to talk to her, so she found herself alone.

Not that she minded much; she preferred her own company to the one of these idiots.

Ten minutes ago, Hojo had given them an assignment to see what they remembered from last year. Tifa still did, and finished the work in five minutes. Bored, she stared at everything that could catch her attention; nothing, really.

She sighed. The lunch scene kept replaying in her head, over and over again. Usually, she would have stood up for Scarlet, even though the girl was a certified bitch and slut. But everyone had been against her, like they actually had wanted to kick her on the ground. Even Aerith hadn't reacted –she hadn't budged from her seat or smiled. The guy holding her wouldn't have let her go, anyways. He was powerful enough to sent a wolf to the ravens, and people listened to him –or so it seemed.

With a jolt, Tifa realized who he probably was. She almost wanted to snap her fingers but stopped herself. She would have to thank him one day. If she could ever catch up with him.

Tifa laid her head on her crossed arms once again. The door opened quietly, and nobody except her appeared to notice. A guy with long raven black hair entered quickly, closing the door. He examined the classroom with an unfocused gaze.

His eyes weren't bloodshot this time, Tifa remarked with amusement. Valentine made his way toward her. She sat straight in her seat, a small smile playing on her lips. Okay, maybe he was still a little under the drug's influence. He nearly crashed into a desk, and tripped on his feet. To regain balance, he gripped the nearest thing possible. The girl screeched when Valentine's hand came to clutch her long red hair. She snarled and, swiftly, slapped him loudly.

Alarmed by the sound, Hojo raised his head from his precious work. His gaze settled on Valentine, and a malicious sneer curled his thin lips.

"Detention, Valentine. No discussion.''

The guy growled but didn't reply. He turned to the redhead, offering her a tiny, almost unnoticeable, smile.

"Sorry, Rosso. Won't do…that…again.''

The girl didn't answer. Instead, she smacked him on the arm, telling him silently to move. He obeyed.

"I see you decided to skip most of the first day again,'' called Hojo.

Valentine turned around. "No… That's not me.''

Hojo shrugged, seemingly indifferent. "Whatever. Get to work.''

Valentine trudged and came to a halt at his desk, besides Tifa. By now she was certain his eyes were red. As strange as it seemed, it fitted him. He was tall, over six feet; the tallest guy she had met till now. His hair was tied back at the base of his neck, looking soft and shiny; not greasy like Hojo's… or Fitzpatrick's. His complexion was extremely pale; Tifa had half a mind to ask him if he was sick. His black jeans were baggy and torn, and his red and black T-shirt had unidentified stains here and there; his shoes weren't even tied –perhaps that was why he tripped all the time. Tifa took a look again and started: there were no laces on the sneakers.

Tifa raised her eyes. Recognition flickered in his face, and he sat himself, almost throwing his binders and books on the desk.

"You're… that girl. From the office,'' he added, more for himself.

Tifa nodded. A tiny half-smile twisted Valentine's lips upwards.

"I'm not always… y'know, like this.'' He made wavy gestures with his hands, squinting at them when they flopped down on the desk's surface. "Weird. I'm Vincent Valentine, and you're Tifa Lockheart. Friend of Zack. Nice guy.''

He tried to stare at her, but his eyes were slightly too unfocused. Sighing, Vincent hid his face in the crook of his elbow. They stayed in silence for a few minutes. Tifa glanced at him occasionally, only to find him glaring at his watch. He had a small cross in a circle tattooed on the back of his left hand. Gently, she poked it. Vincent turned his head to face her. He frowned.

"Why did you do…'' He trailed off, like he wasn't able to finish his sentence. Instead, he prodded her back. She laughed quietly.

"You know who I am?'' Vincent asked her. His face was still partially hidden from her view, and his voice wasn't very loud –almost a whisper. Normally, she wouldn't have paid much attention to such a question. But she wasn't in Midgar anymore, where social position didn't matter much; she was now a Nibelheim High student –and a wolf. She knew that from now she would have to be cautious.

"Vincent Valentine?''

He rolled his eyes. "Talking about the gangs. You know, ravens and wolves and shit.'' He waved his hands more or less wildly again, this time hitting the microscope. It fell in a noisy _clang_. Tifa winced; Vincent glared at the inanimate object. The brunette lifted her eyes to meet Hojo's stern glower. She quickly pulled the article back in his upright position.

"Sorry,'' Vincent said, not sounding sorry at all. "I'll give you a hint. You're the only wolf in this class. All alone with the ravens.'' He smirked, and Tifa suddenly felt anxious.

"And I,'' he continued, "am their leader.''

—

What, Tifa wondered while she gathered her things to go to detention, had she done to end up here, Nibelheim High, of all places? She sighed, exasperated. She closed her locker's door, and jumped at sight of the boy leaning behind it.

"My, my, my, aren't we jumpy?'' Reno teased her, smirking.

Tifa glared at him. "Aren't we sneaky?''

"Always,'' he said.

She shook her head. Turning her back to him, she prepared herself to walk down the hall, but his hand shot out and gripped her elbow.

"Listen,'' he cleared his throat, "I know we didn't start on the right track, but I wanted to talk to you.''

"You are.''

Reno rolled his green orbs and swatted her playfully on the shoulder.

"Can we just… I don't know, start over?'' He grinned sheepishly, raking a hand through his already unruly red hair.

"Did someone forced you on that?'' she asked. As much as she wanted to say yes, his sudden change of behaviour puzzled her.

"Okay, look, I wasn't really sober this morning. As you so gently stated,'' he added good-naturedly.

Tifa had to chuckle at that. It was his way of apologizing, she guessed.

"But I had a rough night, and you were new. My jerk instinct drove me to torment you.''

"Right.'' Tifa rolled her eyes, but still offered him a hand to shake. "Hello, I'm Tifa Lockhart.''

He shook her hand –a firm, strong handshake, unlike Elena's. "Reno Matthews. Nice to meet you.'' He grinned.

She returned the smile.

—

After chatting with Reno, Tifa waited near the water fountain for Vincent. Seeing as they both had detention tonight, they had agreed on going together.

Vincent. He was a strange guy.

''_And I,'' he continued, ''am their leader.''_

_Tifa's gaze rested glued on him. This guy was the raven's leader? God, she __**really**__ hadn't expected that. Slowly, he rose, sitting straighter in his chair._

"_But don't worry. There's no… hostility between you and the ravens. You helped Jessie.''_

_He frowned, probably reconsidering what he was about to say._

"_I guess I should thank you for that.''_

"_No problem. She's a sweet girl.'' Tifa shrugged._

_Vincent nodded absently. "I heard you also talked back to Kadaj. Talking back, huh? One of my friend's favourite thing to do.''_

_Tifa didn't know why he told her this, but she answered, "It wasn't me.'' She pursed her lips. "It was some annoying blond guy.''_

_He nodded again._

"_Dunno if you know him. Blond hair, kind of like a chocobo. Blue eyes. Around 5'9''.''_

_Vincent's red eyes seemed to focus a little, though she wasn't sure. He returned to his slouched position._

"_I do. He is… was… my friend. I don't know. I think_–''

_He stopped himself. Tifa raised an eyebrow, curious. She propped her right arm on the desk and rested her head in her palm. She watched Vincent for a minute, feeling like a hawk. Finally, he seemed to make up his mind, for his gaze flickered back on her._

"_There are three group.'' He paused. She nodded, so he pursued, "There's the ravens, the wolves, and the… well they call themselves the elite.''_

_This, Tifa thought, she already knew. She was about to tell him so but he continued, "Don't mess with them. They can be… dangerous.''_

_The bell rang then, and Tifa was disappointed. She wanted to hear more about the elite; about Zack, Aerith, Yuffie, and Reno, and maybe the guy that had restrained her. Perhaps they were more than the four (five?) she already knew were part of the group, but she presently didn't care about them._

_Vincent stood up. He lost his balance, and Tifa clutched his sleeve to help. He let out a throaty laugh, pulling his arm out of her grip._

"_S'okay, the world is moving in slow motion, so I have time to, you know, get back on my feet.''_

_Tifa's eyebrows shot up at this._

_Right._

_She and Vincent grabbed their belongings, heading for the door._

"_Hey,'' he called out when they were outside the lab, "wanna go to detention with me? I can show you… the way, I guess.''_

_Tifa smiled a genuine smile._

"_Sure. Meet me at the water fountain on the first floor. Near the lockers.''_

_He nodded. She didn't watch him go away, hurrying to get to the gym._

_She also didn't bother asking him how he knew she had detention._

Tifa briefly wondered what would Zack and Aerith think if they saw her with Vincent- with the ravens' leader. Would they be angry? Would they be indifferent? Or would they ignore her? Oh, snap out of it, she reprimanded herself. Since when had she cared about what other people thought of her? This whole gang thing, the pressure it created, it was seriously getting to her.

She caught sight of Vincent coming in her direction, so she pushed herself of the wall. She met him halfway, sending him a smile. He looked sober. They walked side-by-side silently, taking a flight of stairs and turning on the right. Tifa had some difficulty keeping up with his long steps. He noticed this and slowed down. She thanked him.

"You're small.''

She huffed, insulted. "No, you're just abnormally tall.''

She was sure he neared 6'5''; he was about one foot taller than her, and she barely came up to the top of his chest.

"Well, if you were tall enough to rival me, that'd be… freaky.'' He nudged her with his shoulder, still walking. The force of the impact wasn't enough to sent her crashing into the wall closest to her.

"Well, if you were small enough to rival me, that'd be… awkward. Like Kadaj,'' she added, grimacing.

Surprisingly, Vincent laughed aloud, grinning.

"While you're reminding me, Kadaj and his brother, Loz, talked to me last period. You know, the guy who… flirted, I guess, with Scarlet.''

Tifa smiled, remembering the lunch incident. They turned a corner. It was the second floor main hall, mainly full of sophomores and juniors, but there was the occasional senior or freshman. From afar, Tifa saw a familiar black head coming their way. Zack frowned.

"He tried to convince Loz and I to beat you up, but Loz said he preferred to 'play with you','' Vincent said, unaware of the wolves' leader heading toward them. "I told them to fuck off, and Loz said he had enough of Scarlet, but Kadaj threw a fit.'' He smiled, and Tifa chuckled. Zack was getting nearer.

"He said I would regret this, and the kid actually dumped a bucket of dirty water he found in the janitor's closet on my head.''

Tifa's eyes widened. "You're kidding.''

But Vincent didn't answer. He had caught sight of Zack. Said boy came to an abrupt stop in front of the pair, his frown still in place.

"Tifa. Vincent.''

"Hey Zackie.'' He rolled his eyes, but otherwise, his face stayed serious.

"Zack. How was your summer?'' Vincent asked with a little smirk.

Zack's lips curled into the smallest scowl.

"Bette than yours.'' They stared at each other, the tension thick. Hadn't Vincent said that he found Zack nice? Were they putting a show?

"Listen, Teef,'' he turned to her, shutting of Vincent, "we are going to the mall right now? You coming?''

It wasn't an invitation; Tifa wasn't even sure they were_ really_ going to hang out at the mall. Wait a minute, mall?

"There's a mall in Nibelheim?'' She was sure her eyes were wide.

Zack laughed loudly, and Vincent even smirked.

"Of course, silly. You probably didn't see it 'cause it's on the edge of the town.''

Tifa nodded, not really paying attention. There was a mall in Nibelheim? Sweet!

"Tifa and I were heading to detention,'' Vincent put in, voice cold.

Zack frowned. She sighed. "It's true. And we're gonna be late if we don't hurry up. Let's go, Vincent.''

She hugged Zack goodbye. Subtly, he leaned in and murmured, "You know who he is at least?''

She gave a faint dip. She pulled back, and Zack added a "see you'' at Vincent before departing.

"Zack,'' Tifa called behind her shoulder, not turning around; she knew he wasn't far.

"Yeah?''

"Don't call me Teef.''

Not bothering to stay and watch his expression, she pulled at Vincent's sleeve and they both got into the classroom, ready for an hour of extreme boredom.

—

"Oh my God! Freedom!''

Vincent chuckled at Tifa's cry. She was waiting for him outside the classroom. He watched her, smiling and talking cheerfully about the horrors of detention. Poor girl; she didn't know what would hit her.

—

thanks!:

**flawinthemechanics, elebelly, BananaPeaceMonkey, Vulcan Halps, , Niquie, pangpond, Yuleen75, Raika-chan, A.D.D. Vengeance, Chocoboface, DynastyWARRIORS, scarletdeathangel05, , Marisa, swingset, maluka, missmurder16, Kat, 1244, mel, and blue ashes89! **


	6. no love, storms, and fire

_this chapter is for __**mystic-fey**__, 'cause she gave a really good idea for this chapter :) _

_—  
_

**Chapter 6 : **_no love, storms, and fire_

—

"How was your first day, sweetie?''

Tifa Lockheart shrugged one shoulder in annoyance, not ripping her eyes from her meal. She'd never found a conversation more boring in her life. _How were the students? Did you talk to the principal? Did you make friends? Of course you made friends; you're just that adorable, sweetie. How were the teachers? Did you –blahblahblahblahblah…_ God, how she wanted to be deaf at the moment! And the worst was that he was treating her like small child. She was seventeen, damn it, not three!

The tiny sparkle in Mr. Lockheart's eyes faded when his daughter refused to answer him _–again._ He would have liked for her to reply, Tifa was sure, but she didn't want to give him any hope he had been forgiven already; moving her away from her friends and beloved city wasn't something she was keen on.

"I'm tired,'' was all she said before standing up and putting her dishes in the sink. Her father would wash it, as always. Tifa threw him a sideways glance only to see her dad staring at his almost untouched plate. His hands were folded on his lap, his back slightly hunched, and his mouth set in a grim, quasi-bittersweet, tight-lipped smile. His dress shirt was tucked in his grey trouser and his jacket hugged his tall and muscled frame. The black tie wasn't loosened. Overall, he looked impeccable, ready to work. And that, Tifa thought acidly, was exactly what he was going to do. She leaned back against the counter, her hands gripping it more tightly than she believed possible. She released a shaky breath.

"Shoo. I'll do the dishes tonight.''

There. That wasn't so hard, wasn't it? Or at least it wasn't supposed to be. Offering her _father_ some help shouldn't have been a thing to think over. Unfortunately –or perhaps it was fortunately–, it was. And she didn't know if it was for the best.

She didn't _want_ to know.

Mr. Lockheart raised his head so brusquely that Tifa nearly jumped. His once warm brown eyes widened imperceptibly but she didn't miss it. Anger swelled up in her chest. Did he really think that she couldn't –wouldn't– do a damned thing for him? She pushed herself off the counter in a rude way that surprised them both.

"Actually, you know what? I just changed my mind. You do it as usual,'' she spat the words harshly.

Tifa didn't stay to watch her father's reaction. She stormed out of the kitchen and went up the stairs, ignoring her dad's cries for her to come back. He wouldn't follow her up; he never did. When she reached her bedroom –the first door on her right–, she flung herself on her bed, screaming in her pillow. A part of her mind was laughing at how childish her action was but she didn't care. She quickly thought about writing in her diary but dismissed the thought, for the small book was in her bag, itself being downstairs. She wouldn't risk an encounter with her dad until at least tomorrow.

As the minutes passed, Tifa began to ponder over her hectic day. She quietly replayed the images in her head, only frowning when she recalled the scene with Scarlet. They had all mistaken her outburst; they all thought that she had been defending her mom. Tifa sighed at this. People would never understand.

There was also Vincent. He was probably the only person she'd consider her friend right now. Sure, Zack was nice, and it didn't seem false, but he acted this way with everyone he deemed worthy of his presence. She was just another face he'd forget in a few weeks, perhaps days. Tifa knew guys like him; she had always been careful around them. She could say that Reno was on the way to becoming her friend, but his sudden change of heart made her wary. On the other hand, there was Aerith, the kindest girl she'd met. But even there, Zack's girlfriend wasn't that honest. They would be friends, yes, but soon after Aerith would start to distance herself, silently following Zack. They were good people, but a little too… Damn it, she couldn't find a word. Tifa chuckled. She needed to befriend other people. They all seemed to think she was untouchable because she was 'accepted' by the elite on the first day of school.

Idiots. They were all a bunch of idiots.

Tifa rolled on her back, and then sat up when she heard the purr of an engine in the driveway. Quickly, she made her way to the window, drawing back the red curtains to peek outside. Her father's car was already down the street, its headlights the only brightness in the night. He would be gone for a day, maybe two. Or it could stretch for a week. Tifa scoffed and let the drape fall back silkily.

She felt no love for the man.

—

Cloud Strife strolled back to the shore of the little lake, a jacket in hand. The air was cold, something expected at midnight, and the faint drizzle wasn't helping. He didn't know if it would soon transform into a full rainstorm. Perhaps there would be some thunder, too. It would probably be the last thunderstorm before summer or late spring; it was unusually cold for the beginning of September. Cloud put on his jacket, fastened the zipper and grabbed a pebble on the ground. He approached the water, his feet digging in the darkened sand, and threw the little rock. It bounced one, two, three, four times across the water before disappearing.

The rain was getting heavy, and it poured loudly off the roof of his car. Cloud shrugged off his jacket; he didn't have use for it if it was drenched. Carelessly, he tossed it behind his shoulder.

_Water_

He liked water. It made him feel clean, free of everything bad he had ever done before.

_Cleansing_

Yeah, perhaps that was what he needed –wanted.

_Catharsis_

Cloud picked up another pebble and pitched it furiously towards the lake. He watched it as it sank.

—

_Hey Notebook,_

_So it's me, obviously. Dad left a few hours ago, and the cook and housekeeper are to arrive tomorrow. Or perhaps it's a maid. Who cares, anyway?_

_I swear I'm developing insomnia. It must be all this stress from the school. I mean, come on, how can I relax when everywhere I go, eyes follow my every moves and nobody talks to me? Because I hang out with stupid Zack and his gang of followers. Christ, I should have gone with the ravens; whatever Elena says, I think it's less trouble._

_Anyways, guess I haven't much to say. I'm still furious with my dad, but that's nothing new. Shit, I don't know what to do, and it's damn frustrating! How do I act towards a man who's my father but never acted like he cared? The worst in all that is that I know he loves me and cares about our family. But I don't; I can't._

_God, I'm pathetic._

Tifa closed her diary and hurled it across the room with a scream of rage. Panting, she bit her lip until it bleed when she felt wetness in her eyes. She would _not_ cry for a man like him. She raised a shaking hand and passed it slowly over her face, taking deep breaths to calm herself. She waited a few minutes, taking in the surroundings. Her room wasn't that big, but it was comfortable. She even had her own bathroom, though she barely had any place to move in it. It was better than nothing, she guessed. The way she had placed her furniture gave her lots of space on the ground. Looking at a familiar setting was soothing.

Tifa sighed and got up. She really needed ice cream right now.

—

Cloud hurried into his car as the rain began to fall in fine and freezing drops. It felt like hundreds of needles pierced his skin. He couldn't stand that. Cloud slipped in and closed the door clumsily before turning on the heat. With a sigh, he tilted his head back against the seat. If he continued like this –getting up at midnight and stay in the rain doing nothing but think for three hours– he would get sick for sure. It wasn't something he actually wished for, but it was the only moment where he could relax, away from the loud, obnoxious people that were the students of Nibelheim High. Even his closest friends annoyed him more often than not when they acted like they controlled everything in school –which was the case, but at least _he_ didn't try to take advantage of the students; he was too old for that. Cloud chuckled. He could tell himself whatever he wanted, he knew what the true was. He was just as worse as them.

Sighing, he searched blindly the passenger seat for his cell phone, too lazy to open his eyes. He groped around, finally finding it. He rubbed his eyes, though he wasn't feeling tired. Damned insomnia.

He had three missed calls, and Cloud knew who it was. With a faint growl of exasperation, he dialed Zack's cell number without looking. As expected, Aerith answered right away.

"Where the hell are you? It's three in the morning, Cloud!''

"Normal people say hello,'' he replied automatically.

In the background, a deep laugh resounded. Cloud knew they had put the phone on speaker. It didn't really bother him if it was only Aerith and Zack in the room.

"Good evening, Spike,'' Zack said cheerfully.

"Actually, it's early morning, but I guess that that's too complicated for you to understand.''

He heard Zack chuckle and Aerith make a reprimanding noise in the back of her throat.

"Anyways, where _are_ you? You have your car I hope, 'cause I'm not going to get you.''

"I know, yeah.''

There was a pause where he listened to Aerith talking with Zack in hushed whispers, and then she was addressing him, concern laced through her voice.

"You're not going to get sick again, right?''

Cloud shook his head before realizing she couldn't see him. He emitted a small grunt instead. Aerith sighed into the phone, and he could discern the minor accusation in her voice when she spoke next, "Seriously, where are you?''

He couldn't tell them; he didn't want to. The lake was his haven, the only place he knew that was untouched by the stupidity of the system.

"Whatever. I'm on my way.''

"Did you…you knew we had a meeting, Cloud?'' Zack asked softly. He knew his friend meant it as a question, but it came out as a fact. It was one, too.

When Cloud didn't answer, Zack asked him again.

"Yes.''

"Then why didn't you come?'' Aerith cried out, probably pointing a finger at the phone. He could almost imagine her, her eyes squinting in what she thought was a glare, fists on her hips.

"Hush, babe,'' Zack said, a little forcefully. Cloud frowned, but didn't comment. Zack understood him, Aerith didn't; she wouldn't try to step out of her small world. She didn't want to see her cousin like he really was.

"Look, I'm heading home. Then I'm going to sleep.''

He hung up before his friends could protest. The only sound that remained was the rain striking violently on the roof of his old car, but he suddenly found out that it didn't sooth him like it usually did. Once upon a time, he could have fallen asleep there, in his car, with the heath turned on and the heavy pounding of the rainfall.

Cloud sighed, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he drove cautiously into the woods, following the small byway leading near his home.

Things changed.

—

It was almost half past three when the purr of a car resounded around the empty street. Despite herself, Tifa jumped on her feet, hoping that it was her father. Maybe he had decided to come back. Feeling kind of giddy, she drew back the curtains for the second time tonight.

Parked besides the walkway, right in the middle of hers and the next-door neighbours' houses, were an old battered car and a young man looking more than exasperated, raking his hand over and over through his hair.

Without knowing why, Tifa suddenly sighed, relieved. She gnawed at her bottom lip anxiously while watching the guy searching angrily for something in his backseat. She wasn't ready to confront her father, and it would have been worse if he had come back with fatherly intentions.

_Stop._

Yeah, it was enough. She had to stop to think about him, and she had to accept how their relationship was. As much as it upset her sometimes, she didn't really try to change it, and neither did he. At the same moment she resolutely pushed the dark thoughts in the back of her mind, the guy outside let out a shout of utter frustration. Tifa couldn't resist the giggle that burst out, immediately muffling the sound with her hand, her eyes wide. Christ, she _never_ giggled. She cast him another amused glance. His arms were spread on either side of his body and he was yelling what she guessed where obscenities at the night. He stopped brusquely, as if realizing that he was making a show of himself, though he couldn't really know she was watching him. Unconsciously, Tifa took a few steps back to hide herself in the shadows of her room. The young man seemed calm for a few minutes before kicking on of his car's wheel. Tifa thought she would collapse and die of laughter at the pathetic sight. She had seen stuff like that on the television, but, God, it was hilarious! The guy was hopping, clutching his injured foot in both his hands, screaming again. At the rhythm he was going, the whole neighbourhood would wake up in no time.

God, he could be a serial killer or a rapist, Tifa though grimly as she made her way down the stairs, putting on her shoes and hoodie rapidly. But with the guy's car was obviously broken, and while her knowledge in mechanics was limited, she wasn't helpless. She then remembered that they were only three girls in her mechanic classes. She didn't understand why women didn't want to learn how to repair a freaking car. It came in handy most of the time.

Without a second though she stepped out of the house, letting out a sharp shriek when then rain fell upon her, heavy and frozen. Her hair had been tied into a messy bun earlier, so it fit easily under the hood. Her pyjamas bottoms were baggy and long, so her legs didn't freeze, and for once she was grateful not to wear her usual clingy tank top and small shorts as sleepwear.

Slowly, Tifa made her way towards the stranger, who was currently under the hood of his car. She stopped when they were six feet apart and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Do you need help?''

Tifa saw the guy's back stiffen, probably out of surprise or because he thought she had seen his little display of err… irritation.

"Go back to sleep, babe,'' he replied a little rudely.

Tifa frowned. She didn't if it was his posture or perhaps the 'babe', but he reminded him of someone. She dismissed the thought quickly, focusing back on the slightly tense boy.

"I saw you… from my window,'' she pointed at her house over her shoulder, even though he couldn't see it, "and 'cause I know a bit about cars I though I'd come and help you.''

The young man sighed –out of annoyance or drowsiness, she couldn't tell– and put both his hands on the rim of the car.

"Hey, do I know you?'' Tifa asked hesitantly.

"You probably do, kid, if you go to Nibelheim High.'' He snorted, shaking his head. "There's nobody who doesn't know me there.''

Tifa gaped at him –and his arrogance. Strangely, he winced, like he was hurt by his own words. She raised an eyebrow at that.

"I believe you never learned to shut up.''

His head turned vaguely, but he seemed to catch her face because his brows furrowed and Tifa found herself staring into aquamarine eyes for the third time in less than twenty-four hours when he faced her completely.

"Lockheart?''

"Chocobo Hair?''

He choked.

—

Chocobo Hair. Goddamn it, she had surnamed him _Chocobo-freaking-Hair?_

What was up with people and calling him that?

Lockheart sneered and Cloud realized he must have talked aloud.

"Oh, I don't know, perhaps it's the _hair_?''

He felt a growl rise in his throat but he refrained it. He was tired enough as he was; he didn't need a confrontation with Tifa Lockheart, even though he had to admit that she was fucking funny when they argued: She would nearly stomp her foot out of anger, and she was the only girl he knew that didn't _really_ squint her eyes when she glared. And he knew her glare pretty well, seeing as that was the one and only look she had sent him all day.

"Listen, Lockheart, as much as I hate to do that, can I ask you a favour?''

Tifa's eyebrow rose again, and she stared at him, contemplative. She opened her mouth but didn't answer him. Lightning tore through the pitch-black sky, the dark and loud rumbling of thunder following only a few seconds later. Tifa's hands flew to her mouth as she tried to hide her yelp, and her eyes widened, full of an emotion he knew was fright. Cloud felt himself relax at that. Even though he didn't necessarily like the girl, he couldn't let her outside if she had a fear –phobia?– of thunderstorms. The small distance between them disappeared quickly as he took the essential steps, and he grabbed her around the shoulders a little roughly. Jesus, he had held her against him in the cafeteria, surely leading the girl to her porch while draping an arm around wouldn't be a big deal. Against himself, Cloud felt something tug at his heart. This time he wasn't doing it for selfish purpose (the pleasure of tearing down Scarlet's most precious possession: her pride), but because he felt the need to protect her.

How pathetic was that?

Once they reached the door, Cloud opened it a little forcefully and shoved Tifa inside, desperate to get rid of the uneasy emotion taking hold of him.

"Okay, Lockheart, look at me.''

Tifa's eyes seemed totally out of focus, and she was hugging her middle defensively, like something or someone might attack her. Pity invaded Cloud at the piteous sight. She really had a dread of thunder. Sighing, Cloud scratched the back of his head, feeling totally helpless. Finally, he crouched down so to be at eye-level with the brunette. Gently, he took her wrists and pried them from her quivering body, all the while looking into her eyes.

"Lock– Tifa,'' he tried her name for the first time, finding the sound strange in his mouth. He tried again in what he hoped was a tranquilizing voice, though he knew it was unlikely to work, for his voice was naturally deep and slightly scratchy due to the cigarettes he had smoked the years before and the occasional one he had now.

"Tifa, look at me.'' He grabbed her chin, making her face him, and gradually, life returned in her eyes. "You okay now?''

Tifa nodded, and a blush coloured her cheeks. Cloud almost smirked but he knew it wasn't the time. He had to make this quick if he wanted to get home alive, and not be burned by the lightning.

"It's too dangerous for me to repair my car in this weather, okay? It will stay where it is tonight, and tomorrow I'm going to pick it up. I'll even give you a ride home, okay babe?''

"Don't call me babe,'' Tifa snapped suddenly, almost startling him.

She wasn't under the shock anymore, all right. Cloud couldn't resist the smirk this time, and it only made her glower more powerful.

"That's the Lockheart I know.''

He didn't really know her, in fact he didn't know her at all, but he wanted to say something to ease the tension, to kill her previous fear.

He ruffled her hair playfully and headed for the door. Her voice stopped him.

"You are going to walk home? Are you crazy?''

Cloud raised an eyebrow and opened the door. Tifa stepped back rapidly, but he didn't smirk this time. At the moment, he just wanted to ask her _whom_ she had lost in a thunderstorm, because it was becoming evident that someone precious to her had died in such circumstances. He swallowed his urge, pointing to the other end of the street, and hiding his nervousness with a small half-smile.

"I don't live far. And don't forget, I'm picking you up after school, so don't run off without me.''

"We have school tomorrow. When will you come and fix it, idiot?''

Cloud tweaked her nose and winked at her.

"I have my ways.''

With that he got out of the house quickly to avoid any more questions. Once he was but a few feet away from Tifa's home, he started walking backward, toward his car to get his wallet and cell phone and keys, watching the only illuminated window, knowing it was hers. The light was soon turned off, and Cloud felt a smirk twist his lips, the never-ending rain drenching him anew.

Cleaning him.

_Water_

He also liked to play with fire.

—

**A/N: Dundundun. By the way, I want to clear up something right now: Cloud's actions towards Tifa weren't **_**romantic**_**; he was only acting out of **_**pity**_**. I know it says he feels like he needs to protect her, but it's only a spur of the moment. I saw someone I barely knew acting like that 'cause of the storm, and believe, it's really distressing. I began to panic, too… hehe**

lovelovelovelovelove:

**pangpond, none, PoutingCutie, XxFirst Class Flower GirlxX, , Isler, Vulcan Halps, Just Me, estea, BananaPeaceMonkey, Niquie, cerberus angel, Raika-chan, slideshow, Animes-Tribute, misanthropic angel, , LoveIsAForceOfNature, Ch0knat, elebelly, & mystic-fey (**you rock**)!**

**- BananaPeaceMonkey:** yeah, it's gonna be long…but not ONLY because of that, hehe

**- PoutingCutie: **ahah, yeah, Cloud was the guy, as confirmed here. And I totally love Zack; he rocks my socks. But he looks really cocky to me (at least sometimes), so I think he fits the role perfectly. Vincent & Tifa… ahah, the duo of Doom, dare I say…

**- Animes-Tribute:** seriously, I really appreciate your honesty. And I understand: high school fics often have the same cliché plot (& when I mean cliché, I mean REALLY cliché) that it gets annoying. I try my best to make it original, but even sometimes I'm like 'hum… jeez how many times has THIS line/action/plot point been used? Can't I come up with something more original?' & the real twist is coming…later…

**- mystic-fey:** no, seriously, I owe you one. I changed some important things in the story lately, and I was completely stuck with the Tifa/Cloud scene. Thanks again!

**FAQ**

_**Q: Will Kadaj come back?**_

_A: Oh yes, he wil…_

_**Q: Did Kadaj really dump a bucket of water on Vincent's head? Wouldn't he be wet or something?**_

_A: …I guess he went to the locker room and used those little automatic hand dryer… But Kadaj really threw water at him._

_**Q: Why did Cloud hold back Tifa if he wanted Scarlet to be humiliated?**_

_A: Zack & Cloud saw their chance to crush her pride to pieces. & it worked._

_**Q: What's the deal with Reno?**_

_A: Can't tell yet!_


	7. rudeness, monstrosity, and counseling

**Chapter 7 : **_rudeness, monstrosity, and counselling_

_—  
_

"Where the hell did he put the _goddamn_ cereals?''

Tifa slammed the cupboards in frustration, letting out a tiny shriek. Glancing at the clock only confirmed the fact that she was late –and that she was going to miss her bus if she didn't hurry. Freaking Chocobo Hair who had woken her up at fucking 3AM. Today was his last day in this world, she would make sure of it. What had he been doing outside at this hour, anyway?

"Answers first, then comes his painful death,'' she said cheerily to herself while grabbing her schoolbag.

Tifa stepped out of her house, locking the door behind her. For the first time in the week she had been there, the sun was showing itself, making the air warmer than yesterday. Tifa grinned. It was a good thing that she checked the weather every night. She skipped down the porch steps, feeling happier already. That was, until she spotted an old black car parked innocently on the left of her house, just begging to be repaired. Of course, she wouldn't do a thing about it. After all, it certainly wasn't her who wandered the streets alone at night with a very, very shitty car while a full rainstorm raged on. Nope, and she didn't care a bit what happened to him, or who he really was –probably some annoying loser boy seeking attention, she thought with a snicker–, or how out of his mind Chocobo Hair was. And anyway, who in their right mind had hair that looked like _Chocobo_ feathers, which, consequently, made him look like a Chocobo himself?

Someone _not_ normal; someone crazy.

Tifa wanted to grin and nod to herself, but the thought was quickly dismissed when she saw the yellow school bus driving in her direction. She wrinkled her nose in distaste; she had never been one to like school bus, or any sort of public transportation.

Soon, its Yellow Ugliness (who had decided for school bus to be yellow, anyway? Shiny, flashy, _ugly_, yellow at that) came to a stop before Tifa, almost squishing her feet. The doors opened brusquely, nearly hitting her square in the face. Tifa slowly climbed in, sending a haughty smile at the driver, who in turn glowered –or so she thought. She couldn't really tell with the dark sunglasses covering his eyes. He didn't look really old, early twenties or so, she guessed, and had multiple piercing, all in his ears, and his jaw was unshaven. He was bald, but not a "shiny bald'', just… well… hairless.

He jerked his head in direction of the seats with a small grunt. Tifa passed him without a second glance.

"How rude,'' she muttered under her breath.

A few students snickered at her comment but she didn't pay them attention. She had noticed her sitting partner.

"Hey, Jessie!'' Tifa took the seat next to the raven girl and smiled genuinely. Somehow, she knew that there weren't a lot of wolves taking the school bus. Jessie's posture was a dead give away: no stiff back, no tight-lipped smile, just a small grin and a wave.

"Hi. How was your night?''

"Oh, God, you wouldn't believe the shit I had to go through at three in the fucking morning.'' Tifa snorted. "Some guy's car crashed near my house and I swear, he couldn't repair his car to save his life.'' OK, so she was lying just a bit. Chocobo Hair couldn't have fixed his (shitty) car in such weather.

Jessie laughed slightly. "Guess you went outside to help him?''

"How did you know? Damn, am I really that transparent?''

"No, it's in your nature to help people.''

The bus stopped and another student hoped in. Jessie turned her gaze to the window. Tifa coughed awkwardly. The silence was a little more than uncomfortable, and neither of them was making a move to break it.

"Huh…'' Tifa almost smacked her head. Way to start a conversation, Lockheart! "Why, hum, do you…wear glasses? I mean, you could buy some contact lens, right?''

Jessie's attention snapped back to her, grey eyes wide and eyebrows raised.

"Excuse me?''

"Ugh, forget it.''

Jessie chuckled again, hiding her mouth behind her hand.

"Oh God, Tifa, what the hell?''

"I don't know!''

At this point, Jessie was openly laughing and Tifa had to fight not to smile. Trust her to ask random questions.

"I'll tell you another day. We're almost there.''

Indeed, the school was coming into view, his courtyard full of students mingling with each other. From afar, it could have looked like every other public school in the world. Except that it wasn't. Oh no, it certainly wasn't.

The bus came to a sudden halt that jolted Tifa out of her thoughts. Without a word, the driver opened the door. Everyone stood up and started getting out the Yellow Ugliness. As soon as every single student was out, the doors closed abruptly and the bus sped up, leaving them in a cloud of dust.

"This guy is so rude!'' Tifa said in between coughs. "What's his problem?''

"Tifa?''

"What?''

Jessie grinned.

"His real name is Rude.''

—

"Oh, English, how I love thee,'' Tifa half-whispered, half-groaned.

Besides her, Reno sniggered as subtly as he could, which wasn't saying much. Mr. Fitzpatrick glared in their general direction, but not bothering to interrupt his lesson. Strange how things could change from one day to the next. Yesterday, Fitzpatrick wouldn't have hesitated to send her to Shinra's office. But now, now that Reno had claimed the seat next to her he didn't do anything. She had seen him reprimand other members of the wolves, so she guessed that this "special treatment'' only applied to the elite and their friends.

"OK, class, take out your books. We'll read the first chapter together.''

Reno rolled his eyes and barely refrained a snort. "What are we, twelve?''

Tifa shook her head. She raised her hand, smiling sweetly.

"Yes, Miss Lockheart?''

"I don't have the book, sir.''

Fitzpatrick let out an exasperated sigh. He _tsked _repeatedly and sighed again. Tifa wanted to slap him. Did he absolutely have to be overdramatic over one book?

"You forgot your book? Oh well, that's a sha–''

"No,'' she interrupted. "I didn't get one.''

The teacher stayed silent a minute, probably contemplating his options. Tifa didn't blame him. Her desk was on the far right of the classroom, against the wall, and the only person besides her was Reno. As if reading her thoughts, the redhead grinned, moving his table toward hers. Fitzpatrick huffed and closed his book brusquely, but didn't protest.

Tifa was inwardly cackling. English was going to be fun, indeed.

—

Mechanic class, Tifa thought, are evil, especially when they are taught by someone as…singular as Cid Highwind.

She stared at the heavy document laid in front of her. She poked it tentatively with her index as if it would bite. She couldn't believe she had to study this monstrosity for the first exam, which was in less than three weeks. Hopefully, there would be more practical exams in the future or her brain wouldn't function ever again.

"What's with the gloomy faces?'' Highwind yelled in his scratchy voice.

Tifa winced. This guy seriously needed to learn how to lower his voice.

"Sir,'' Reno whined, "do we really have to study this…thing?''

"Shut your mouth, Matthews. Goddamn it, don't you see it? This friggin' document screams 'Study Me!'''

Tifa snorted. Yeah, right. To her it was more like 'Burn Me.'

"Is there a problem, Lockheart?'' Cid Highwind glared.

She hastily shook her head. Shinra's promise was still fresh in her mind and she knew that contradicting Highwind was the easiest way to get detention.

"Stand up, Lockheart.''

Tifa's eyes widened. Oh God, what had she unconsciously done now? She got up and came to stand besides Highwind, who smiled wolfishly down to her.

"You're going to help ask some goddamn questions to the pricks, princess. Pop quiz everyone. Lockheart's,'' –Cid pointed at her with his thumb–,"the second teacher so yell at her if you're not happy.''

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. This was _not_ good.

"Andrews!''

A kid with shaggy blond hair raised timidly his hand and croaked, "Yes?'' Poor kid, Tifa thought.

"Define me kinematics!''

"Err… it's the study…of–''

"Too long! Lockheart, your turn.''

Tifa scanned the classroom. Her eyes fell on a certain someone, and she smirked.

"Reno,'' she began in a sing-song voice, "tell me what the study of statics is about?''

It was probably the only thing she knew as she had read the definition three minutes before while leafing through the monster manual.

Reno growled but offered no answer. He only sunk lower in his seat and gave her a dark look as she smiled smugly. Highwind patter her on the back, and Tifa had to concentrate on keeping her balance, for his claps were more than powerful. He went to fire another question when the door suddenly opened, a guy presenting her his back following through.

"Hey, Cid, just thought you'd want those back. I'm finished with the assignment you gave me so can you come and take– Oh, it's you,'' he added with a sneer.

"Chocobo Hair,'' she said, voice overly sugary.

He glowered but didn't reply, instead heading towards Cid's backroom, a box of tools in his arms.

"Cloud Strife! Come back here, you insolent ass. You just interrupted my weekly pop quiz!'' Cid barked.

Oh God. His name was _Cloud_? Were all those kids' parents taking drugs when they named their child? Kadaj, Rude, Cloud, Loz –the list went on and on.

Cloud snorted. "You're talking about those quiz where you ask a student to come and help you? Oh yeah, I remember those.'' He came out of the backroom with a rag in his hands, trying to wipe out the grease staining his white shirt and his face. "Don't count on Lockheart to help you. She's probably too tired.'' There he grinned, and Tifa sensed that whatever he was going to say next wouldn't be good for her. "I mean, I kept her wide awake until three.''

"You bastard!'' She shrieked. Tifa tried to lunge at him but he dodged at the last minute, almost sending her crashing into the teacher's desk. She turned around, burgundy eyes sparkling with a murderous glint as she tried to get past a laughing Highwind to wring Cloud's neck.

"Son of a bitch! Stop running, you mother fucker!''

"Shit, what a mouth, Lockheart.''

Tifa let out another stream of colourful words under her breath. He was so _fast_; she couldn't catch up with him. Crossing her arms over chest, she stopped and snarled, barely holding back from hissing at him. Cloud came to a tentative half, his hands raised in front of him, the now dirty rag still clutched in his hand. Some students were still snickering and Highwind was openly smirking. Tifa could almost see his brain working to come up with another evil plan to torture her.

"You're calm now?'' Cloud asked.

Tifa grunted as she walked back to her desk. She heard him sigh out of relief. Ah! Like she would let him win. Subtly, she grabbed the monstrosity lying innocently on her table, and swiftly turned around and launched it at Cloud's blond head. It hit its target with a loud and satisfying _thunk_. Cloud emitted an ear-splitting scream, the sound bordering on girly. Both noise were music at Tifa's ear, and she grinned as she pumped her fist in the air and let out a cry of victory.

"Ah! I knew this horrible thingy would come in handy some day!''

Cloud lifted his head, seething and cradling his injured skull. Both were completely oblivious to Highwind's face reddening more and more at the second. That was, until he himself gave out a shout of rage.

"That's it! That's fucking it! Lockheart! You goddamn behaviour is unacceptable in my class! And you, Strife,'' –he brusquely whirled to face Cloud– "I've supported your childish conduct for three fucking years! You will both be faced with severe punishment that _I_ will choose! And no, Strife, don't give me that shit about your senior status, 'cause you know I won't fucking take it!''

He took a pause to breathe, and his face gradually regained his normal colour. He closed his eyes for a moment, sighing. Everything around them was silent, and you could have heard a pin drop to the ground.

Finally, Highwind opened his eyes, and the malice lurking in them wasn't very welcome on Tifa. She felt dread settle in her stomach as she briefly crossed gaze with Cloud.

"You two,'' Cid articulated slowly, "will, every Mondays and Wednesdays for a month, take counselling. Together.''

He smirked before adding, "Think of it as… couple counselling.''

"Oh, hell no,'' Cloud moaned, raking both his hands through his hair repeatedly.

"No way,'' Tifa blurted out in shock.

"Yes way, Miss Lockheart. Starting next week.''

Tifa could almost see the maniacal laugh spurting from Cid Highwind's mouth.

Oh yes, mechanic classes were definitively evil.

—

**A/N: ****OK people, read this: Cloud & Tifa have just met. They will not fall in love at first sight and have hundred of babies right after. Thanks.**

you guys are my soulmates:

**slideshow, BananaPeaceMonkey, Yuleen75, Asilem Dlanod, , , Shikabane-Mai, kuro-sama, Raika-chan, Marisa, BlueWings92, Niquie, Wings of Water- SKYE, Ch0knaT, cerberus angel, pangpond, Mystic Dragon Eyes, , jaykay33k, elebelly, Isler, macalaniaprincess, mystic-fey, PoutingCutie, DynastyWARRIORS & Chaotic Symphony!**

**-BananaPeaceMonkey: **What's gonna take so long? Lots of stuff, hehe. LOL your suggestion cracked me up, 'cause at first I was like "WHAT THE HELL? NO WAY!'' & then I finished to read your sentence. Ah, huh, no; at least not now.

**-Yuleen75:** some people really are afraid of thunderstorms, & I've seen someone hyperventilate & panic & sob because of thunderstorms. My sister actually.

**-mystic-fey: **This chapter is a filler so nah, no question answered, but perhaps in the next, or in two-three chapters.

**-elebelly: **ahah, no offense. Thanks for telling me. I'll correct it…someday…

**-pangpond: **Sephiroth didn't even make a appearance yet… but you're right about the instinct thingy.

**-Marisa: **aaah, darling. Thanks for you reviews. Replying here would be too long so I'm gonna use the review reply thingy lateerr. See ya.

**FAQ (finally):**

_**Q: Are Rude, Tseng & Rufus in this story? If yes, what are they?**_

_A: You met Rude the Master of the Yellow Ugliness. Tseng is older and works for the police. Rufus is a Wolf but he appears later._

_**Q: Are Cloud & Tifa in the elite?**_

_A: Cloud is part of the elite. Tifa's just a wolf._


	8. dear cloud, frogs, and confidence

**Chapter 8 : **_'Dear Cloud'_, _frogs, and confidence_

_—  
_

_Dear Notebook,_

_THIS IS SO FUCKED UP. I'm changing school. It's official._

—

_Hey!_

_Dad came back today. Hold on, I'm going to ask him if I can get the hell out of Nibelheim High._

_HE SAID YES! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! DAMN, I KNEW HE WA_

_Bloody hell. Guess what, Notebook? Yeah, that's right. HE FREAKING SAID NO. I knew he hadn't understood my question correctly. Shit. And he won't listen to me. Said I need a good reason._

_MY SANITY IS AT STAKE. ISN'T THAT A GOOD REASON ENOUGH?_

_I guess no._

—

_Hello Notebook!_

_I've officially declared war to Cloud Strife. And I'm damn proud of myself. Look at that:_

"_We're at war, Strife. I'm not letting that one pass." (That little shit put rubbish in my locker! He convinced the janitor that it was HIS locker and that he had forgotten his combination! I HATE HIM)_

"_I must say, Lockheart, that it's time you finally realized that. Bravo, really. I'm impressed."_

_Then he started clapping._

_I punched him._

_He suggested I get Anger Management._

_I punched him again._

_I should give myself a pat on the back._

—

_Forgive me if this entry is a little messy, but I'm in Mechanics. Highwind's not here so basically it's kind of like a study period; we're supposed to do some studying for the exam. Bleh._

_This is the first day of the War against Satan Spawn (a day to remember!). And today I decided to put itch powder on his jacket. The idiot left it on his chair in the cafeteria (he always goes at the cafeteria first thing in the morning to get what I guess is breakfast). It didn't start acting until a while later, but in second period I got word from Aerith that Cloud was acting REALLY strange, 'like he was itching or something.'_

_Take that, baby._

_And because I'm the queen of subtlety, I put this note in his locker right after Math. He sent it back to me with a message of his own. Naturally, I replied. I found his answer on my desk when I entered the Mechanics classroom. Here are the notes, which, as you can see, dear Notebook, are very well glued to the following page. Not_

'_Dear Cloud,_

_I heard you were acting oddly earlier? Like you were uncomfortable and couldn't stay in place. Is everything okay? As your current Number One enemy, I need to know how you are doing. I cannot have you dying without having my revenge._

_This said, I hope you have a lovely day._

_Sincerely,_

_Tifa.'_

'_**My dear Tifa,**_

_**Eat shit and die.**_

_**With all my love,**_

_**Cloud.'**_

'_Dear Cloud,_

_Didn't your mom teach you to be a gentleman? Seriously, I am ashamed of your manners, and I am ashamed for you. And you should try doing something of your pathetic life, instead of pathetically trying to think of pathetic threats._

_Guess what? I'm wetting myself because of your lame threats. Not._

_Best wishes,_

_Tifa_

_P.S.: Did I mention you were completely pathetic?_

_P.S.S.: Here's a suggestion for you: There's a bridge five minutes from here. Why don't you just jump down from it?'_

'_**Bite me, baby.**_

_**Love,**_

_**Cloud.'**_

_See, Notebook? SEE?_

—

_I decided to skip lunch. I'm not hungry, and seriously, I'm not in the mood for Elena. I mean, all she does since yesterday is bug me about Zack's back-to-school party. Do I look like I care about his fucking party? I can't stand parties. Even less when a spoiled kid like Zack Fair throws them. Midgar was full of these people. And I saw Zack's house._

_It's as big as, oh, let's say, THREE TIMES MY HOUSE? And my house is NOT SMALL._

_And he's all like, "Hey, Tifa!"_

_And I go, "What do you want, Zackie?''_

_And he goes (awfully cheerful, may I add), "You coming to my party tomorrow?''_

_So I go, "Um, I don't kn-"_

_And the bastard goes, "Great! I'll see you there!"_

_Can someone say jerk, please?_

_I mean, this first week's a disaster! Elena's following me around and pestering me about going to this damn party. Parties are an unoriginal way to pass time by getting drunk and dance in a way that reminds me more of dry sex than anything else. Not that I ever did it. Dry sex, I mean. And I'm running out of excuses. I tried telling her that my car is at the garage ("Tifa, you don't have car.''), that I have to go pick up my Dad at the airport ("Didn't your Dad come back two days ago? And besides, you don't have a car.''), that I have some big French essay due for Monday morning ("Whatever. Ask a raven to do it.''), that I have other plans ("What other plans? Everybody goes to this party. Even ravens.'') So she came up with this brilliant idea:_

_Elena: Tifa, didn't Cloud leave his car near your house?_

_Me (not liking the sound of that): Yeah…_

_Elena: Well, he said he was going to repair it today._

_Me (REALLY not liking where the hell this is going): So…?_

_Elena: Just ask him for a ride!_

_Me:…. (that's me fainting. Nah, just kidding. But I wish I wasn't. I mean, if I had fainted, I would have an excuse to get out of this, right?)_

_Oh yeah, and she had the WONDERFUL idea of mentioning it to Zack, who told Aerith, who told Yuffie, who told Reno, who told Cloud. He gave me one of the iciest glare I've ever seen in my whole life. I bet Zack forced him into being my chauffeur for this fucking party. Perhaps if I tell him I'm not going then it'll be OK and he'll leave me alone. Oh, and who am I kidding? If I tell him I don't wanna go he will probably drag me against my own will just to torture me._

_I swear, this is horrible. Just look at that list (I know I'm a dork, Notebook, but I'm bored, and waiting for Hojo to come in and start his freaking class can get to you. This dead frog is staring at me. I know it.):_

_**I'm in a war against Cloud.**_

_**Cloud is member of the elite.**_

_**Cloud is Zack's best friend.**_

_**Cloud is Aerith's cousin.**_

_**Cloud is the one who held me in front of the WHOLE cafeteria on the first day.**_

_**I'm forced into going to Zack's lame party.**_

_**Cloud is giving me a ride to said party.**_

_**Which means I need to pass ten minutes with Cloud alone in a car, because Zack's freaking parents decided to buy a house FAR from the city. I mean, it takes 10 minutes from my home, which is on the edge of the town. But they have the biggest mansion I've ever seen. I bet they're old money. Whatever.**_

_**I have COUPLE counselling with CLOUD twice a week for a MONTH.**_

_**10) I need to learn the WHOLE Monstrosity for my fucking Mechanics exam (I hate Cid Highwind.)**_

_**Jessie isn't talking to me anymore because Scarlet is threatening her. Wow, is it me or is today the Day of Threats?**_

_**Loz hasn't stopped leering at me since Day One. It is quite scary.**_

_**On the other hand, his brother Kadaj is trying to kill me by look. I'm ashamed to admit it, but his glares can be pretty intimidating. Uh, scratch that. Squinting and trying to look menacing isn't scary.**_

_**Vincent isn't talking to me either. Does he hate me or what? Did I do something wrong? Christ, we're YEARLONG science partners. He could at least PRETEND to like me.**_

_**Fitzpatrick won't lea**_

"I don't hate you."

Tifa let out a piercing shriek as she turned around, eyes wide and a hand to her heart. Vincent leaned in, expression unfazed, and frowned. He took the journal and held it in front of his face. Slowly, he turned a page.

"I see,'' he said, still reading.

Tifa closed her eyes for a moment as she tried to regain control of her emotions. God, here she had been, writing tranquilly about the injustices of life when suddenly there's a voice in her ear and hair tickling her face. Exhaling one last time, she stood up and held out a hand. If Vincent saw it, he didn't care. He continued, ever so slowly, to scan every page. Growing frustrated, Tifa made a move to retrieve it by herself. Vincent dodged her poor attempt, eyes still glued to the text.

"Hey.'' He pointed at a page. His face flickered with an expression akin to amusement. "You're talking about me.''

Tifa rolled her eyes as she placed a hand on her hip and shifted her weight on one foot. She pushed back a tendril of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear.

"Well, of _course_, Vince. You read it yourself.'' Irritation laced through her voice but Vincent ignored it.

"Other than that, I mean."

Now curious, Tifa closed the distance between them and peered over his arm. When she saw that it was an old entry she scoffed. Looking sideways confirmed that he was absorbed into reading what she had written. Seizing her chance, Tifa made a grab for the book, but Vincent moved at the last second, bringing her journal over his head. His red eyes narrowed in concentration and his mouth twitched in a small smile.

"There,'' he said leisurely. " '_So now I'm waiting for the principal to finish shouting at a student. I can't distinct what he's saying, but the guy/girl in there must be going deaf. Oh wait, it's a guy; Shinra just said (roared is more like it): ''Insolent son-of-a-bitch!'' I guess it's a guy then. Wonder that he did. Probably skipped school on the first day… some shit like that.' " _He lifted his gaze from the book and glanced at her. "In case you don't remember, I was stoned.''

"I know that! I just didn't at that moment."

Vincent's left eyebrow rose as a slight chuckle escaped his mouth.

"Cloud is the one who skipped."

Without looking at herself, Tifa knew that her eyes had hardened, her posture stiffened.

"Do I look like I care what he did on the first day?''

"As a matter of fact," Vincent continued, "he always skip the first day. Since"-he frowned, as if trying hard to remember-"middle school, I believe. May it be the first day of school, the first day after Christmas Break, Spring Break, or any vacation. Well, he comes to school but doesn't go class. Shinra used to give him a hard time about that when he began here but now he doesn't care. All the teachers don't care, actually. I guess they're tired, you know? So they just let it slide.''

Now Tifa was silent, listening intently with her arms crossed over her chest. She had a feeling Vincent wasn't just talking about Strife skipping classes. She opened her mouth but one look from Vincent shut her up.

"And I also noticed that you seem to talk about him a lot. A new crush, perhaps?''

With a silent cry of rage, Tifa lunged at her friend, now desperately trying to tear her journal out of his hands. Vincent, as usual, managed to dodge, a full grin now etched on his face. Tifa came to s stop abruptly. She stomped her foot as she clenched her first at her sides, almost on the verge of resorting to physical violence.

"Vincent," she purred sweetly, "give it back to me, please. I don't want to hurt you.''

He threw back his head and laughed. A few gasps resounded around them but they didn't pay the other students attention.

"You, hurt me? In you dreams, sweetheart."

Tifa controlled the growl that menaced to get out of her throat and snapped her fingers.

"Be a good boy now, and give me back my fucking book.''

He snorted.

"What am I, your dog?''

"OK, that's it.''

Tifa turned around and climbed on the chair. She was easily towering over him even as he raised himself to his full height by straightening his spine. Tifa knew she would need the height advantage to execute her plan. She glowered.

"Prepare for your doom, Valentine.''

Vincent smirked.

"Bring it on, baby.''

She clearly remembered the second day of school, science period. Vincent had admitted to her that he had a fear of frogs due to an accident, eight years ago. Now, she had a feeling he would regret telling her.

Tifa quickly grabbed the container with the dead frog that had been lying on the shelf right beside her desk. She uncapped it and, trying her best to hid her grimace of repulsion, plunged her hand in the pot to seize the deceased animal. Luckily, the jug was big, and anyway, there were about three amphibians in it. Without hesitating she threw the first one, aiming for his head.

If she had thought that Vincent's eyes had become huge at the sight of the frogs, it was nothing compared to now. Tifa tossed another dead amphibian at her friend. He let go of her journal to protect his head with his hands as he gave off a scream. At least his didn't sound girly, Tifa thought with a smug smile. She put down the jar and jumped off the chair. She bent down to get her journal. Tifa threw Vincent an amused glance as she smoothed the wrinkled sheets of the Notebook. He was getting paler by the second while trying to take off a frog that was stuck in his hair.

"Get it off! I swear, Tifa, I'll do anything, just get the mother fucking thing off me!''

Trying her best not to crack up, Tifa walked closer to him and swept the animal out of his hair with a simple movement of her hand. She clutched one side of the desk as she covered her mouth with her other hand. Vincent was breathing heavily, his eyes glowing.

"You,'' he articulated slowly, "are _evil_.''

"No way,'' she shook her head and grinned. "Highwind's evil. You're not the one with _couple_ counselling for a month with _Strife_.''

"Yeah, well you're not the one who had frogs thrown at them!''

Unable to resist, Tifa cracked up, her loud laughs echoing on the walls. Distantly, she heard the voices of the student and Hojo entering the classroom, asking what the hell had just happened.

"Oh, God,'' she managed between chortles, "I guess we'll get another detention.''

Vincent rolled his eyes. He padded the top of his head carefully, as he might be afraid of finding another dead frog resting peacefully on his mop of black hair.

Tifa started laughing again.

—

"So remind me why we're going again?''

Cloud looked skywards and let out an exasperated sigh. Or Tifa guessed he did. He was on one of those rolling boards, under his car, trying to fix up their ride for the night.

"Because I promised Zack. And because it would –give me the small wrench, would you?''

Tifa rummaged through the toolbox. She finally came upon the desired tool and slid it under the car.

"Thanks,'' Cloud mumbled. "OK, so, yeah, it'd look bad, you know? Nibelheim's all about gossip, so if I, Zack's best friend, his girlfriend's cousin and member of the elite, don't show up? Man, just imagine the sandal.''

Tifa laughed slightly. She stared at the house facing hers as an old lady made her way to her car.

"And worse, if _you _didn't show.''

Tifa's brow furrowed, and she took a sip of her Coke.

"What if I don't show up? Like anyone would notice.''

"Yeah, right.'' He snorted. "Fucking car… Don't play the naïve girl, babe. You're the new sensation. You're new, you're smart, you're gorgeous, and you know it.''

Cloud slid out from under the car. He got up and started wiping the grease from his hands. He threw down the rag uninterestedly on the ground and crouched in front of her as he picked up his tools. Tifa felt like she could have been blushing. But the thing was, she knew. She knew he was right. She didn't deny that she was smart and that she was pretty (she wouldn't say _gorgeous)_, and she knew that she knew it.

"See?'' Cloud pointed at her and Tifa batted his finger away from her face. "You're not even reacting because you know it's the truth. You have confidence. And believe me, Nibelheim girls lack that. They are all tip-toeing around us like we're gonna eat them or something.''

"With this fucked up system you have, you have to expect such a reaction.''

"Not really.'' He shrugged, then stood up to place the toolbox in his trunk. He came back in front of her and leaned on his hands. "I mean, yeah, around Zack and co I would understand, but they are like that everywhere and around everyone. It's like they're expecting us to know every goddamn detail about their life and then punish them. Come _on._''

Cloud stole her Coke can as she was about to take another mouthful. Tifa clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth in annoyance but didn't take it back.

"Scarlet has too much confidence,'' she drawled, examining her nails. Ugh, she had on _scarlet_ nail polish.

Cloud took off his thumb ring and started to play with it, a habit she now recognized. He always did it when he was frustrated over something or someone.

"Scarlet's just using her looks. She's hot, yeah, but she's a total slut. She's been trying to get into my pants for five years now.''

Tifa's eyebrows raised out of surprise. _Five_ years?

"So she began to flirt with you when you were both either _twelve or thirteen_? Jesus,'' she added under her breath.

"No,'' Cloud chuckled and shook his head, his blond bangs falling into his eyes. "_She_ was thirteen. I was fourteen.''

Tifa hummed. From the corner of her eyes she could the silver ring twisting more rapidly than two minutes ago, the patterns now a greyish blur.

"You're nineteen? Started late or flunked?'' Tifa asked, cocking her head to the side.

Cloud nodded. "Flunked. Sophomore year.''

The ring was going faster, and Tifa had a feeling it really wasn't helping him. Gently, she covered his moving digits with her hands, careful not to startle him. Cloud lifted his eyes, taken aback by her action. She met his gaze straight on. Something undecipherable flickered in his eyes, but it soon gone and replaced by the familiar mirth.

"Searching for an excuse to touch me, baby?''

Tifa hid her face in her palm.

"For fuck's sakes…''

Truce's over, she thought.

—

**A/N: My inspiration: Vincent saying "Bring it on, baby.'' I couldn't resist. And yes, I've changed my pen name from 'CreepyCuteness' to 'S..'**

hearts:

**pangpond, Marisa, elebelly, , mystic-fey, DynastyWARRIORS, BananaPeaceMonkey, cerberus angel, Master Keto, Yuleen75, tacks, Niquie, bikerbrat, BlueWings92, , ADDVengance, starySymphony, Riley owns, Suspended Soul, swingset, , tazuku, ClotiNotCleris, & cHaRiSmA DoLl ArIeLiE!**

**FAQ!**

_**Q: Is Zack the leader of the wolves?**_

_A: Zack is the leader of the wolves because he is the leader of the elite. There is no 'official' like with the ravens. He's the leader of the elite, so he's automatically the wolves' leader._


	9. fight, allies, and hate

**Chapter 9 : **_fight, allies, and hate_

_—  
_

Everything was dark all around them. They were walking side by side, following the old dirt road that lead to an unknown direction. The only sound was the one of their regular footsteps, with the occasional shuffling of the leaves above them. Trees surrounded them, and the branches bowed under their own heavy weight, creating a gloomy atmosphere. A partly demolished brick wall ran parallel to the road, and there was no light except for the fading ray of the dying sun behind the cocoon of leaves.

"And I swear to God, once we get out of here you are paying for that. What sort of excuse is 'I forgot my keys'? Do you want to know where I'll put your fucking keys? Are you that dim-witted? You are coming to my house to drive us to Zack's, which is over a ten minutes drive from my goddamn home and you forget you keys? Oh, yeah! You don't recognize the way and now we're lost! And yeah, did I mention you forgot your _keys_? Did you forget your brain, too? How many times have you been to Zack's house? Aren't you his best friend or something? It's a party, shouldn't there be cars coming this way? Shouldn't you be on your way to jump down a bridge? You remember that note I wrote you? Why, oh, why didn't you listen to me? And you see that brick wall over there? You see it? Do you want me to smash your head on it? Repetitively? Why didn't you just cut the little coloured thingies that car thieves use to steal cars? I'm sure you know how to do it? You know, don't you? I'm sure you don't even have an excuse. Christ, don't you have a cell phone or something? And before you ask, no I don't have one, you threw mine in toilet, remember? What kind of jerk does that, anyways? A cell phone! Would you like me to throw your phone in a lake? Would you-"

"Would you just shut up?'' Cloud snapped.

Tifa scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest, not sparing him a glance.

"Look, yeah, I forgot my keys. What's the big deal? It's not like you don't need the exercise.''

Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out. She stopped in her tracks and stood in the middle of the road gaping like a fish a Cloud.

"Pardon? What did you say? I need the exercise? What kind of jerk do-''

"A jerk like me, it seems. Just shut up for a moment, okay? I'm trying to remember if we continue ahead or turn left.''

Tifa huffed. They had been going in circles for more than half an hour or so, and still no sign of life. They couldn't even hear the probably too loud music, and no car had passed them yet. Damn Zack for living so far in the woods!

She heard him swear under his breath. With a sigh, Tifa realized that maybe she had been a little harsh on him for the past five minutes, but surely he had been to Zack's before?

"I think it's… We should go… Oh, hell!"

Then he started laughing.

Tifa blinked. They were lost in the woods and he was _laughing_?

"I don't see what's funny, Cloud!" She glared, crossing her arms over her chest. "We're lost because of YOU!"

"Jeez, relax," Cloud chuckled. He dropped a hand on her shoulder, stirring her towards the brick wall. "I just remembered that time when Zack and I got lost around this area. See that?" He pointed at the wall, more precisely at some tiny inscriptions sloppily graved in the stone. _Ct thru the wods_. Right besides the message, a small arrow pointed towards the sky.

Tifa's eyebrow rose in disbelief.

"You were what, six when you wrote that?" She drawled.

Without looking she knew he was rolling his eyes.

"We didn't want to waste time, so we just graved the _necessary._" He smiled at her. "Come on, we're already late."

Cloud hopped over the wall. Tifa followed him, slapping at his hands when he tried to help her, telling him she was able to step over that, thank you very much. Amusement flickered in his face. Cloud shrugged, his blue orbs twinkling. He grabbed her wrist.

"Excuse me, but I can-"

"Walk, yeah, I know. And I don't care. If you vanish in the woods I won't go after you. Forest's kinda thick. And it's getting dark."

Tifa sighed, resigned.

But still, she thought, he isn't _that_ bad.

—

The first thing Tifa saw was the brown-haired guy barfing his guts out in the open entrance hall.

"Joy," she murmured, her voice drowned by the loud music and cries of her fellow classmates - or, as she'd rather say, barbarians.

On her right she could see people dancing, a few of them drinking from plastic cups. She and Cloud stood in the hall, taking in all that was around them.

"Tell me we don't have to stay for more than fifteen minutes."

"For Christ's sake, Lockheart. Man up a little." Cloud gave her a slap on the back. "It's a party. It's just a fucking party. Have fun. Have fun, got it?"

Tifa shrugged out of annoyance. As she raised her eyes to the ceiling, she caught a glimpse of a pink figure in the mob. _Aerith._

"You don't have to say everything twice, you know."

She followed Aerith with her gaze, but still noticed Cloud closing his eyes and shrugging one shoulder. He sure didn't look more excited about tonight than her.

"C'mon, take off your jacket, or you'll be melting within five minutes," Cloud shouted, pushing her gently toward the closet.

Tifa nodded, not really paying attention. Once their clothes were hanged, they carefully stepped over the unconscious body of the guy who was now lying in his own vomit, much to Tifa's disgust.

"You know him?" She asked, her voice so loud some people turned to look at her.

"Sure. Not a very bright guy." He snorted, clearly amused by something she didn't know. He squinted, as if concentrating, before turning to face her, his left hand on her arm so he wouldn't lose her into the crowd. "Listen, just call me when you're ready to leave. Don't go off wandering in these woods alone at night, you hear me?" Cloud put his index finger right in her face, and Tifa rolled her eyes. She tapped him lightly on the chest, her hand discerning a peculiar shape under his dark blue T-shirt. She closed her fingers around it, bunching his shirt around her hand. Cloud gave out a small yelp -or so she supposed seeing as the music covered nearly every single sound.

"A necklace? Like Zack's? To 'prove' your stupid membership to the elite? Are you all fucked up in the head?" Tifa blurted out, feeling incredulous. And here she had been, believing that they only sported their 'evidence' on the first day of school.

Cloud brutally jerked out of her grip, his expression showing vexation and regret, but only for a second. Tifa blinked in surprise, her finger still dangling between them. She looked up at him with confusion clearly etched on her face, and Cloud sighed as he impatiently lowered her hand, putting it back at her side.

"Sorry. I'm a little possessive of that."

"So I noticed," Tifa said slowly.

Cloud glanced away a moment, and she took the occasion to analyze what he was hiding. To her, the unknown object had felt like a ring, or even a key.

"Anyway," he cleared his throat. "Here's your cell phone." He reached in his back pocket, handing her a slim red phone she knew very well. Tifa opened her mouth, ready to yell at the top of her lungs. And she had thought he was becoming somewhat decent! But no, he had to be a bastard, hiding her phone for practically a week. "Don't start screaming," Cloud raised his hand to stop her. Tifa didn't say anything, but her eyes were burning with anger. "I really wanted to drop it down the toilet, you know," he started, amusement evident on his face. "But Zack was in the bathroom with me and when he saw me with the phone"-he grimaced-"he, well, he warned me not to do it. He saw I-"

"Wait, wait, wait," Tifa interrupted. "You actually _listened_ to him?" Her eyes widened, and the urge to laugh was stronger than ever.

"No! I tried to do it but the fucker wrestled me. I mean, I know he hates it when we fight but, dude, the guy almost broke my goddamn ribs!" His voice was full of indignation, though Tifa could perceive a trace of mirth.

Tifa let a snigger escape, her hand concealing her grin. Dear Zack, she thought. He was probably one of the greatest jerk and one of the most loyal guy she knew.

Tifa took her phone from his hand, absentmindedly stoking the black star sticker that was placed directly under the tiny screen.

"Zack put himself first on speed-dial by the way," Cloud said, gesturing to the phone with a sweep of his arm. "And I'm not the one who entered the numbers, Reno did. So blame him."

Curious, Tifa scrolled her contact list, laughing out loud as she came upon an entry named 'Cloudie-poo :)'.

"I believe you," she managed to say between chuckles.

A sudden crash stirred her from her thoughts, and she looked on her right to catch two guys fighting. One of them had smashed into the coffee table, shattering it to pieces. He got back on his feet, immediately lunging at his opponent. The one who had destroyed the table, she recognized as Ian Andrews, the guy who had Mechanics with her, but the other one…

"Don't' tell me he has _another_ brother?" Tifa exclaimed.

"Yeah…" Cloud trailed off, cranking his neck to see what was happening. "That was probably Yazoo. Real shithead, this one. Stay away from him, Lockheart. Loz's all talk, but Yazoo"-he nodded towards the silver-haired man-" is just dangerous. He may be all silent and shit, but that's exactly the problem. You never know what he's thinking."

Oh my god, she thought. _Yazoo._ Poor kid. She hoped for him it was only his nickname.

"Sounds like you have a problem with him."

Cloud snorted, moving slightly to the left to avoid a drunken Ian who was tripping over his own feet, his arm around Cole Green's shoulder, a guy Tifa knew was renowned for causing trouble. They were both howling "Victory!" and drinking beer at the same time, and many people stepped aside so not to get barreled into.

"I have a problem with the four of them," Cloud shouted, but Tifa barely heard him. Plainly pissed off by the commotion, he raised his voice. "Oi, shut the fuck up, Andrews!"

"What?" Ian's speech was slurred, and he detached himself from Cole to stumble over Cloud and Tifa, whom he obviously recognized, for his eyes lighted up and he grinned at her. "The wolves' girl! 'Sup, chica?" His hand rose in a high-five, and Tifa didn't hesitate to return it. She knew that, even if he was drunk, Ian was a respectable and funny guy.

Cloud rolled his eyes at Tifa's smile and drew her closer to him as Ian went pass them to greet a tall girl who sneered, pushing him away. Turning her head, Tifa startled when she came face to face with Cole Green, his gaze dark as he stared intently at her.

"May I have this dance?" Cole smirked.

Tifa crossed her arms over her chest as if trying to hide herself from Cole's wandering brown eyes. She scrutinized him, taking in his messy chestnut hair, his crooked front tooth and nose (probably the result from a fight, she mused), his tall and lean body, his faded dark blue jeans and band shirt, his eyebrow piercing, and the tattoo of a nautical star on the side of his neck.

"Sure," she replied, hiding a slight smirk of her own.

"Gre-"

"No."

Annoyed, Tifa turned around to give Cloud a piece of her mind, but Cole beat her to it.

"Man, you don't decide for her," he scowled.

"Cloud, don't be an ass tonight," Tifa hissed even though she knew he couldn't hear her.

Cloud shook his head, not offering any explanation. He grabbed Tifa's wrist and wrenched her away from the stuffing crowd. She twisted her head to shoot an apologetic look at Cole, but she didn't see him. Too bad, she thought. Just count on Cloud to ruin the day.

As they came upon the spacious kitchen, Tifa managed to free her wrist. Cloud instantly whirled around, his words so low she scarcely made them out. "Cole doesn't just want a dance, Teef."

"Don't call me Teef," she growled out. "And step back, would you, you're invading my personal space." She pushed him, making him lose his footing for a second. Cloud glared but didn't retort. "Isn't Cole your friend?" She added after she couldn't take anymore of the hostile silence; the music was no more than a faint beat here, and the other occupants were farther in the room, ignoring them.

"Not when he's drunk," Cloud answered, detaching his words. Tifa could see the anger swirling in his eyes, and she could sense her own irritation growing

"What the fuck, Cloud? You…you were okay five minutes ago!" She raised her voice, not caring as a couple of girls came in and began to whisper among themselves. "What the fuck, seriously? Did you have to ruin the night?"

Cloud raised his hand to the sky in exasperation, pivoting on his feet as though he was leaving, but he spotted the girls who were probably gossiping and frowned.

"Get out!" He barked.

Tifa didn't have to look to know they had scurried off. Cloud headed for the refrigerator but Tifa seized his arm as he opened the door. His eyes didn't move and he didn't say anything.

"What's with you? You're killing me here; you're really killing me, switching from happy to moody in a second. I _knew_ Cole wanted more, okay? That doesn't mean I would have let him. I am _not _defenseless. Who told me to let go and have fun tonight? You, Strife, goddamn it."

Cloud drew a beer from the refrigerator, noticeably tuning her out. Fed up, Tifa snatched the beverage out of his hand and slammed it on the counter.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" The scream tore from her throat, and Tifa felt like blushing when the small group who had been talking on the other side of the room stopped to listen. Regardless of them, she continued, though her voice had retrieved a normal level. "I don't know what's gotten into you, okay, but you better get the fuck out of my sight if you're staying like this."

Cloud gave a snort, interrupting her. Tifa shivered at the rage blazing in his blue orbs, lending them a stormy appearance. Despite the fact that they had been arguing, Tifa suspected that his wrath wasn't solely directed toward her.

"I'm serious, Strife, I'm dead serious."

"Shut it, _Teef_. You don't tell me what to do." Cloud grabbed the can again and breezed past her.

"You don't either," Tifa spoke out, voice calmer than she felt. Her back was facing him but she knew that, suddenly, he couldn't take it anymore and had turned around to shout. She raked her hand through her hair, feeling her composure reaching its edge.

"Why can't you ever let things go!" He didn't say anything else, and all Tifa could hear was his harsh breathing, as if he didn't have any energy left. Unhurriedly, she faced him. He was shaking his head, both elbows on the kitchen island, his hand tugging at his blond locks.

"Cloud…" Tifa tried, but the look he sent her shut her up.

"You know what, I'm done with this shit. I was only trying to help you, Lockheart. But, goddamn it, you always have to be such a _bitch_," he stressed out the last word as he walked toward her, eyes completely blank. "You don't know a fucking thing about this town and its people, okay? You come here to this fucking party and- Fucking hell!" He smacked his fist on the counter and let out a stream of undecipherable curses.

Tifa winced, taking a step back. She had never seen him this angry, and as much as she didn't want to admit it, he was beginning to scare her. She had never seen him _really_ mad; all those times they had argued, he had taken it with his trademark smirk and cocky attitude.

"Don't swear so much," she said, weaker than she wanted.

Cloud stared at her, and Tifa stood erect and silent, waiting.

Finally, he released a long sigh and sat on the stool behind him.

"Sorry."

Tentatively, Tifa approached him, sitting down next to him. Cloud followed her with his eyes, his elbow propped on the hard surface and his cheek in his palm.

"Perhaps you don't realize," he began, "but you always have to add something. It's like… Tifa, it's fucking crazy. And it's making me go crazy -this whole week, the thing with Cole. You knew there must have been a reason why I told you no. Seriously, just think about it. When he's drunk, he's not the same. It's as simple as that. He's strong, Tifa."

Cloud waited for her to answer, but when she stayed quiet, he continued, "You're not in Midgar anymore. You have no knowledge of Nibelheim; you don't know the people like I do. Last year, at this same party, Cole took advantage of some girl." At Tifa's empty expression, he added, "He didn't rape her, but if she hadn't screamed like the fucking world was ending… I don't know, okay? He's a good guy. He's a good friend. Fucking loyal. But since then, we always watch him. We don't want something like that to happen again. I wasn't trying to spoil your night. But, God, Lockheart, next time, think before opening your mouth."

Tifa's gaze wandered around when he finished talking. She grasped the abandoned beer can lying on her left and popped it open. Ignoring Cloud's frown, she took a big gulp, grimacing at the taste. Without a word, she presented the drink to him, which he took with a small nod.

"What happened?"

Both jumped out of surprise at the intruding voice. Aerith was standing at the kitchen's entrance, an oblivious smile lighting her features. She walked to Cloud, clapping her hands in front of her.

"What's with the sombre face? Have fun, dance, _socialize_!" Aerith emphasized the last word, and Tifa wondered why. Was Cloud isolating himself sometimes? At school, he was nearly always with someone, and she couldn't visualize him all alone, with no one around to keep him company.

Cloud shrugged her off, getting to his feet. He left the room, an inquisitive Aerith hot on his heels.

Tifa watched them leaving, not making a move to follow them. She eyed the can of beer again, and with a roll of her eyes, took the remaining swallow.

Time to _enjoy_ the evening.

—

"And then, _he_ said that _she_ was lying! Can you believe that?"

"Yeah, I _know. _He's such a bastard."

"So Amelia stepped in and told them to _relax_. The nerve of that girl! She's, like, what caused all the trouble!"

"A real _bitch_."

"Of course, Jackie didn't take it, and, like, slapped her, _hard._"

"Yeah, she totally deserved it!"

"Marcus -that's Daphne's boyfriend- suddenly came in with Cameron -the guy Amelia cheated on Spencer with- and it was _hell_."

"Spencer is such a cutie!"

"Yeah, I know!"

"Back to the story, girls. Carlos was, like, _white_. He probably couldn't believe that Marcus had betrayed him like that! I mean, a _sex tape_! Talk about loyalty."

"Yeah, but he shouldn't have cheated! I think that Carlos, like, totally searched for it!"

"Perhaps, but _still._ Would you want Josie to do this to you? C'mon, Virginia. Be realistic."

"Stop it, Breanna. I _so_ get Vi. Remember, like, what happened to me last year?"

"Oh my god, yeah! How could I forget! Toni was a true jerk to you, Stella."

"Yeah, I'm so glad he graduated."

"Wanna hear the story, Tifa? I know you must, like, want to know how Amelia ended up with Marcus and Jackie decided to turn lesbian, but we've _got_ to tell you this one!"

"No thanks; I think I hear my mom calling me," Tifa drawled, quickly disappearing in the crowd.

Jesus.

She'd never had that much of a headache.

—

"You do it, I give you sixty."

"No way, Jordan. The Fairs already hate me."

"Don't be a fucking chicken. Hey, hey, hey, Tifa, you'd do it, right? Tell him you'd do it."

"Shut up, man. Leave the girl out."

"Think about it, dude. I'll give you sixty dollars if you start a fight like Anderson did."

"Yeah, Elliott, do it." Tifa grinned.

"Not you, too! Think about it, guys. Seriously. Zack's already angry 'cause they broke a fucking table."

Jordan rolled his eyes. "Be a man. Who cares what the boss wants? I give him two hours until he's wasted. And you know that Zack-"

"Forgets everything once he's drunk. I know. Doesn't mean I'll do it."

"Coward."

"Hey! No, man. That's not cool. Just because I love my fucking life doesn't mean I'm a coward! And Ian was drunk; I'm not."

"Then just get drunk," Jordan said in a monotone.

"I don't get drunk. You know that, man, you know that."

"Say, Elliott, you got a girlfriend?" Tifa asked, suddenly getting an idea.

The blush on his face was enough of an answer to her.

"No? Who do you like, then?"

"Shut up, guys. Just shut up."

Tifa saw Jordan's thick eyebrows go up in surprise, then his face lit up in realization.

"Helping Elliott to get the girl of his dream to convince him?" Jordan whispered to her. She grinned.

"Her name's Phoebe. Too short for my taste, but she's perfect for him. Kinda nerdy, too."

"No, no, no! That's not true! Shut up, Jordan, for fuck's sakes!" Elliott waved his hands frantically in front of him, his eyes wide behind his glasses.

"You're cute, Elliott. Why don't you go get her?" Tifa leaned in, resting her elbows on her crossed legs.

Jordan let out a booming laugh that attracted several curious glances in their direction.

"I was so fucking hoping you'd ask that, Lockheart."

Tifa slapped his knee, then his arm as he tried to put it around her shoulders.

"Sorry, sorry," he said with a grin.

Elliott's blush, Tifa noticed, had increased tenfold since her last question, and he wouldn't look her in the eyes. His head was slightly bowed, showing her his longish chestnut hair. She and Jordan were on the couch while Elliott was sitting in Indian in front of them. They were in one of the many dens where the music wasn't more than a distant sound and the occupants were more on the sober side. Jordan had spotted her right after she had entered the room in the hope of escaping Breanna and her little group. She had recognized Jordan as he often sat with Cloud or Reno at lunch. It didn't take long before she was introduced to his best friend, Elliott Perkins.

"Talk louder, Elliott. I can't hear you," Tifa said after Elliott muttered something unintelligible.

"I said," he began, taking a deep breath, his cheeks still aflame, "thatshedoesn'tknowwhothehellIam."

It took Tifa a minute for the words to process, but when they did, she had to suppress a howl of laughter.

"Oh my god, you're kidding me."

"Told ya it was a good one," Jordan added with a wink.

"You shouldn't"-she put a hand to her mouth to muffle her chuckles-"laugh at you friends."

"Says the girl who is about to die of laughter."

Tifa shook her head, trying to look stern.

"Go ahead," Elliott mumbled.

Tifa didn't want to offend him any further. She waited a moment for her hysterics to subside before talking again.

"Well, just go introduce yourself."

It was so sudden she almost didn't notice. It was like the temperature dropped in the room and she and the guys had never had a friendly conversation for over half an hour. The tension that radiated from Jordan was palpable, and Elliott's discomfort was written all over his face.

Jordan put his arms on the sofa behind her again, but this time she could see he wasn't trying a move on her. He passed his hand in his short brown hair slowly, ruffling it a bit, before sighing.

"It's not that… simple, I guess."

Watching their faces -and watching the people all around them-, she could only come to one conclusion.

"She's a raven?"

A question, but she already knew it was the truth.

Elliott winced.

Jordan stayed silent.

And Tifa couldn't take it anymore.

"Goddamn it! Why is everyone so _stupid_ here?" She nearly shouted in frustration.

Jordan's head snapped to the side so quickly she thoughts he'd break his neck. Elliott's eyes were wide in surprise.

_Finally,_ a reaction.

"Seriously, I just don't get it. It's always the ravens and the wolves, and oh, I can't do that 'cause they're gonna stare me down! Hel_lo_, people, we don't live in slavery!"

Jordan opened his mouth but Tifa didn't let him say anything.

"Oh, wow, I'm saying stuff against the elite. They're going to arrest me, aren't they? Throw me in a dark dungeon where only rats live? That's what you want to say, Jordan? That's fucking bullshit. Elliott, don't tell me you're not going out with the girl you love-"

"Like," he interrupted with a small blush.

"Whatever. Same thing. Please, guys, stand up a little! You know, I've talked to ravens and they are really nice. I don't see why they're ravens. You see why? Nobody does; it's just what the elite wants. Damn elite. They can be very nice, I'll admit that, but they _always _give orders like they-"

"Tifa."

"Oh, shut up. Can't you see I'm talking here? And Vincent -you know Vincent? Everybody should know Vincent-, he's such a nice guy! Kinda reserved but seriously, I think he's my only friend here. And guess what, he's a raven! He's their leader at that. Doesn't that show something? And-"

"Tifa."

"What?" She whirled around to face Jordan. Her cheeks were burning and her breath was coming in slight pants.

God, did it feel good to say all that.

She huffed, replacing a lock of hair that had fallen in her eye.

A sly smile appeared on Jordan's face. "You know, you look very sexy right now."

_Thunk_.

"Owie, that's my head you just hit!"

"Did you really say 'owie'?"

"So what?"

"It's funny. You sounded just like a girl."

"I did NOT sound like a girl! I'm so manly it's impossible."

_Whack_.

"Fucking hell! Stop it!"

"Boys are so freaking stupid."

"I am NOT stupid! No! Don't hit me again!"

"Don't be a girl, Jordie. It's one little slap."

"You'd like to get slapped behind the ears, Perkins? Stay out of this. And don't call me Jordie!"

"Be a man."

"Yeah, Jor_die_. You're not tough enough for a little slap?"

_Smack_.

"Goddamn it! My head! That's hardwood floor!"

"Be a _man_, El_lie_."

"_Die._"

Tifa raised her eyebrows as she watched the two guys wrestle on the floor. She let out a sigh. At least the tension had disappeared.

"Boys will be boys."

"I heard that!"

"I wasn't trying to be subtle," she drawled, examining her nails.

"Mother fucker!"

Tifa removed her eyes from her nails to witness the sight of Jordan curled in a ball, his hands covering a certain part of his anatomy. She shifted her gaze to an Elliott looking like didn't know if he should laugh or not. In the end, he settled for a small half-smile as he put hand on his friend's shoulder.

"You didn't really hit him down there?" Tifa questioned.

Elliott grimaced, nodding.

"You okay, man?"

"Do I look fucking _okay_ to you?" Jordan groaned.

Tifa bit her lip to repress a smile. She stood up, going to sit down, legs crossed, beside the boys.

"You. Are. _Dead_."

Elliott let out a nervous chuckle, but he could see that Jordan wasn't serious. Well, completely serious.

"Elliot, I think Jordan owes you sixty bucks."

—

She had been here for nearly three hours now and still no sign of Cloud. She wanted to clear some things up with him as she had intended to do earlier before Aerith interrupted them. She guessed it had been a good twenty minutes since she had left Elliott and Jordan in the den to search for Chocobo Hair.

Tifa grinned to herself as she remembered the two guys.

"_So you hate the system?" Jordan asked brusquely._

_Tifa looked up in incredulity from her conversation with Elliott. Trust Jordan to ask things out of the blue._

_Elliott stared at her with -was she dreaming?- hopeful eyes?_

_Did they hate the whole organization of the school, too?_

_Had she_ finally_ found _allies_?_

_Tifa prudently nodded._

_There was a moment of silence._

_Then, Jordan broke it with blaring cry of joy. He hugged her tight, crushing her to his chest. Her eyes bugged out as she saw Elliott grinning like a madman._

"_You and I are made to be together. We should get married as soon as possible."_

_That was definitely Jordan._

_Tifa started to laugh, returning the embrace with all the strength she possessed. She could just about feel tears of relief clouding her eyes._

_She felt a hundred times lighter._

_At last, normal people._

Wandering in the basement, she came upon a gang of guys playing pool. She recognized most of them from Jordan and Elliott's group.

And there he was.

Tifa tapped her fingers on her thigh nervously. He hadn't noticed her yet so she was still safe. She was afraid that he was still angry enough to yell at her like before. Though she'd never admit aloud, he had scared the heck out of her.

His words had hurt her, too.

The worse was, she knew he was telling the truth. She had tried to act all grown up and unafraid. But he was definitely right, saying she knew nothing about Nibelheim.

_Pull yourself together, Lockheart. He's not gonna eat you._

She hoped, at least.

Determined, Tifa sauntered over to the pool table, trying to act relaxed.

_He'll see right through you, girlie. He always does._

Chandler Howell saw her first. She liked Chandler, like she was fond of almost all the guys who hanged out with Cloud. She hadn't been introduced to all of them, but the ones she knew were decent. Except for Scott Vaughn, and Tifa scowled at the sight of him playing with the guys.

Damn arrogant chauvinist bastard.

"Hey there, Tifa. Care to join us?" Chandler smirked, and she had the feeling she probably wouldn't like what would come out of his mouth. "You can partner up with Strife. The poor baby's all alone."

Well. Wasn't that just _peachy_.

Cloud playfully socked his friend on the shoulder without looking up. Tifa saw his back tense regardless of the calm expression on his face.

Ha. He was still angry. Wonderful.

"If you want, you can be with me. Wonderkid there isn't the only one lonely."

Tifa turned her head in the direction of the voice only to come face to face with a complete stranger. His badly dyed blond hair was gelled in spikes, his jaw was too square, and the look in his eyes way too lewd for Tifa's taste. His shirt was too tight for his broad shoulders, seeming on the verge of ripping.

She repressed a shudder of disgust.

An annoyed growl came form her left at the same time Cloud grabbed her wrist, pulling her by his side. She almost put his hand on his arm in a calming gesture but the ice reflected in his aquamarine orbs stopped her. Discreetly, she drew her hand back, her fingers curling in her palm in a clenched fist.

Sometimes she seriously wanted to hit herself for her stupidity.

"Get lost, fucker." The angry tone in Cloud's voice shouldn't have surprised her, but it did.

The guy raised his hands in a don't-shoot-me movement, offering Tifa a smug smile. "Chill, man. I meant no harm. Your girl would have been perfectly safe."

Tifa snorted in disbelief and Cloud rolled his eyes. Amused chuckled from the other guys resonated around the table, and Stupid's confused expression only seemed to entertain them more.

"What?"

"Just shut up," Cloud mumbled, rubbing his cheek impatiently.

The silence reigned around them for a few seconds. Tifa shuffled anxiously, playing with the multicoloured elastic bands on her right wrist.

"Well, gentlemen, I think it's time to begin the game."

Thank you, Chandler.

Tifa stood silently besides Cloud as they waited for their turn to play. Her partner was watching the game with lazy eyes, looking totally bored.

"Who was that guy?" She blurted out before she could stop herself.

Cloud didn't answer her. She rolled her eyes at his immaturity.

"C'mon, Cloud, just tell me his name," she murmured, staring at him with pleading eyes.

The sigh that escaped his mouth sounded more tired than anything else. He slowly shifted his gaze from the game to her, but didn't say a word.

Goddamn it, he had a way to make her feel nervous.

She turned around, showing her back to the guys and leaning her weight on the table.

"Greg Shelton. He's just a loser who got kicked out of college and has nothing better to do but coming to parties where he's not wanted," Cloud grumbled, his features staying neutral. Like he wasn't interested into talking with her.

She didn't doubt that.

"Oh, okay," was all she could say. She threw a look at Greg, only to find him staring at a girl's ass.

Wasn't that charming.

There were three people left before them.

"I'm not going to apologize," Cloud said softly.

She didn't want him to.

"I didn't expect you to, Cloud," she replied just as softly

Tifa could see the confusion in his eyes. She finally had his attention.

"Look, I don't know how to explain this, but I know it was stupid when I said that-"

"Hey, Tifa, can I talk to you?"

She whirled around to see a redhead twirling her hair around her fingers. She smiled at Tifa.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" Tifa replied harshly.

"It'll only take a minute, I promise," the girl took her hand, not letting her answer.

Tifa raised an eyebrow. She looked back over her shoulder, locking glances with Cloud as he stared at her retreating back.

The redhead entered a small fitness room. Tifa followed her, now more curious than irritated. She examined the girl, feeling as though she had seen her somewhere.

_In the kitchen._

The girls in the kitchen. The ones Cloud at shouted to get out.

This couldn't be good.

"You were in there," Tifa stated, crossing her arms on her chest.

The redhead smiled gently.

"I'm Rosemary. I just wanted to ask you something on behalf of my friend. The poor girl is too shy."

"Shoot," Tifa murmured, not really caring at this point.

Rosemary moved, putting her weight on leg and her hand on her hip. She chewed on her bottom lip.

"My friend likes Cloud. She wanted to know if you two were an item or something."

Tifa stayed silent. She hadn't missed the underlying repulsion in the girl's voice.

"Your friend seriously likes him?"

She hadn't meant to say it like that, as if she couldn't believe someone could actually like Cloud.

Rosemary chuckled, and her smile lost his warmth.

"Yes, I know it seems pretty stupid. I'll admit he's hot and all, but the guy's a nutcase."

Tifa wasn't sure if she agreed or not on that one.

"And he's only in the elite and the wolves 'cause Zack's his best friend. Oh, and he's Aerith's cousin. He's always hanging out with ravens. The worst is that he and Vincent Valentine were best friend before Zack came to town."

_That_, she didn't know.

She had always thought they hated each other.

Tifa only nodded, giving Rosemary a small false smile. She wasn't sure if she wanted her to continue. But it seemed like the redhead wasn't about to stop.

"Even his parents didn't want him. I mean, his mom killed herself because of him."

Wait, _what_?

Tifa didn't realize she had spoken out loud until she saw the expression on Rosemary's freckled face.

"Well, I guess you're new. It's the truth, though, I swear."

"Says who?" Tifa wasn't about to believe heavy stuff like that without proof.

Rosemary shrugged nonchalantly. "Cloud himself."

Now, that was a shocker.

Tifa stood rooted on the spot for a few seconds, digesting this new information.

How could she ask him if that was true? She couldn't exactly go up to him and say, "Is it true your mother committed suicide 'cause of you?"

Definitely not.

Tifa raised her eyes to the closed door, suddenly feeling _really_ uncomfortable.

"I gotta go," she said, turning on her heels.

"Wait!" Called Rosemary. "You didn't answer my question."

Stupid girl. What she had seen in the kitchen should have been enough of an answer.

"No." Tifa couldn't bring herself to look at the redhead. She just wanted to go home.

But she didn't want to talk to Cloud.

"Thanks." Tifa could hear the satisfaction tainting her words. "It's Alisha who's going to be happy."

Tifa nodded stiffly before exiting the room. She made a beeline for the stairs, ready to go find Elliott or Jordan so she could ask them for a ride home. From the corner of her eyes, she spotted Greg the Loser making out with some busty girl looking awfully like Scarlet. They were taking a great part of the stairs, and Tifa didn't feel like making possible body contact with any of them. Biting her lip, she looked in direction of the pool table where all the guys were still playing. For a moment she considered asking Chandler, as he was the one she knew most beside Cloud, but she didn't feel comfortable enough to spend twenty minutes with him alone in a car.

Her gaze wandered over to Cloud, and she blinked at the sight that greeted her.

A curly brunette had a hand on his shoulder and her other arm around his waist. She was staring up at him and whispering in his ear, occasionally giggling. While he wasn't exactly hugging her, his hand was on her hip and he was smirking.

Well. He surely wasn't her ride home anymore. He would probably be too _busy._

Determined to get pass the couple playing tonsil-hockey, Tifa walked quickly toward the stairs, coming near the pool table, when Chandler cried out her name.

"Tifa! What did that girl want? Wait, you okay?"

"Just _peachy_."

She didn't bother to watch his reaction, or Cloud's for that matter.

—

_But, goddamn it, you always have to be such a _bitch_!_

"That's not true," Tifa muttered to herself.

The temperature had considerably dropped since they had arrived, and Tifa found out that she was shivering in her jeans and cami. She had forgotten her jacket inside and didn't feel like going back there. She was waiting for her ride to arrive, sitting on the sidewalk, hugging her legs to her body, her cell phone clutched in her hand.

She had wondered for a long time how she would get home.

In the end, she had called Vincent.

I'll be there in thirty minutes, he'd said.

That was nearly an hour before. She was still waiting.

_Why can't you ever let things go!_

"I dunno," she sighed.

It didn't take long for his words to start repeating themselves over and over again in her head.

_You know what, I'm done with this shit._

"Stupid, stupid, stupid."

Maybe talking to herself wasn't exactly the best way to resolve her problem.

_His mom killed herself because of him._

Was that the truth? Did Cloud really say that?

_The worse is that he and Vincent Valentine were best friends before Zack came to town._

Could she ask Vincent what had happened?

No.

She couldn't just ask straight out how Cloud's mother had died.

Shaking her head, Tifa pushed those thoughts far in the back of her head, deciding to ignore them. She closed her eyes, burying her head in her arms.

Soon, the purr of an engine resonated in the empty street. She knew who it was, but didn't look up. She heard the door open, then close. His footsteps echoed, the sound growing stronger as he neared her.

"Tifa?"

He rarely talked louder than a whisper. Like he feared to startle someone.

She could feel his body heath radiating as he sat beside her. He didn't say anything, and for that she was grateful. Usually she would have tried to engage a conversation, but she didn't feel like talking at the moment.

She didn't know what would come out of her mouth. And she didn't want to find out.

Raising her head, she leaned on Vincent's shoulder, eyes still closed. Tifa felt his body tense at the contact. He relaxed rapidly, posing his own head on hers. Long tendrils of his ebony hair fell down in her face, and she tried to blow them away, failing miserably. Vincent throaty snigger made her smile a little. She already felt better.

"Don't ever throw another frog at me."

The comment was so random that Tifa couldn't help but grin. She opened her eyes, staring straight ahead in the darkness. The enormous house facing Zack's seemed to touch the sky. She had been surprised to find a few other mansions near. She had thought that the Fairs owned all the territory.

"Shut up. Don't tempt me," she replied in a murmur, lightly hitting him on the knee.

"C'mon," he said so softly she almost didn't catch it, "let's get you home."

The ride to her home was silent except for when she told him where she lived -no music, no talking, nothing.

The moment they had passed the brick wall, Tifa had swallowed.

_But, goddamn it, you always have to be such a _bitch_!_

She wasn't a bitch, wasn't she?

She glanced sideway at Vincent. He, too, looked lost in his own world.

She just about jumped when Vincent parked in front of her house. Her father's car loomed in the driveway, and Tifa remembered that she had never told him she was going out.

She hoped he wasn't still up, waiting for her.

She turned to Vincent.

"I'll see you Monday?"

Tifa didn't know why it had come out as a question.

Her friend nodded, offering her a tiny grin. On impulse, she leaned in to hug him. Like before, his body stiffened, but then his arms came around her. He gave her a small squeeze, and she laughed as she let him go.

"Don't be afraid to hug, Vince." Tifa raised an eyebrow, teasing.

"I'll give you a proper hug Monday if you shut up and get out of my car right now," he droned. He flicked her on the arm. "Get out, Lockheart. I want to sleep."

"Don't speak like that to me, Mr. Valentine," Tifa said, feeling more playful, "or I'll have to go get the frogs."

The look he sent her was hilarious.

"Seriously," he muttered, "sometimes I want to kill the guy who put a fucking frog in my face."

She wanted to ask him if it was Cloud but only nodded.

"Well, bye."

Once she was at her door, she looked behind her only to his car disappear around the corner. She rested her head against the door.

What a night.

Tifa dug out her keys from her pocket, making sure the door didn't cringe when she closed it. She took off her shoes, taking them in her hands. Her sock clad feet didn't make a noise as she slid on the hardwood floor.

Tifa almost let out a cry of fright when her phone vibrated in her pocket. Placing a hand on her heart as if it would calm her, she turned around, only to see her father sprawled on the couch, the portable home phone in his hand. He was still in his suit, but the three top buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing the white undershirt he wore. His tie was loosened and his dress shirt wasn't tucked in his pants.

"Daddy," Tifa whispered, sighing. She tiptoed to the linen closet, drawing out a giant comforter. Returning to the couch, she placed the comforter so her dad wouldn't get cold. If there was a thing she knew about him, it was that he was always freezing during the night. Gently, she pried his fingers away from phone, trying her best not to disturb him.

"Tifa?"

Not really surprised, she looked up to see her dad squinting.

"Yeah," she whispered back. "Go back to sleep, Daddy." She hesitated before adding the last part. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was going out."

Her dad shook his head slowly, looking as if he might fall asleep at any second.

"I was worried."

Tifa nodded. A question was burning her tongue but she wasn't certain she should ask him.

"Daddy…"

"Hmm?"

"Do you love me?"

Adam Lockheart's eyes snapped open, staring at her confusedly. He raised his hand, cupping her cheek.

"'Course I do, Tifa. You're my little girl." He chuckled.

She nodded for what felt the thousand time tonight.

"Night, Dad."

He closed his eyes again, and was asleep before Tifa could get up.

As she was climbing the stairs to her room, Tifa took out her phone to see who had sent her a text message at this ungodly hour. She stopped dead in her track, right in front of her door, when she saw the name.

Why the hell would Cloud send her a text?

Now more than just curious, Tifa opened the message as she entered her bedroom.

_where are you?_

Well, that was definitely a surprise.

Sitting on her bed, she began typing.

_got a ride home around_ -she glanced at her clock- _one_

She clicked on the send button, throwing her phone on her bed. She had just finished changing into her sleepwear when her cell phone vibrated again.

_you could have told me. i was looking for ya._

At this, Tifa snorted. Really. She had thought him too busy for that.

_forgot. i called a friend._

It didn't take long for his reply to come.

_what did that girl want? you looked really pissed._

She began typing, but stopped herself as she read the message she had just written.

_what happened to your_

Immediately, she erased it. She should stop thinking about this.

_nothing important. why do u care? i thought u hated me._

Perhaps that was too forward, she thought after putting her phone down. It had already been fifteen minutes and he hadn't replied. Sighing, she gathered her clothes and dropped them in a corner of her room. She glided under her covers, and just as she was about to close the light, she heard a buzz coming from her right.

_Me too._

_—_

**/N: Finally done :D**

looove (chapter 8 & 9 & 10 -thank for the support. The woods were horrible.):

**TheMagicalTapeworm, Tori128, Silentlove-29, bepsey007, Yumi Reitenshi, ClotiNotCleris, Lackadasial, kawinkydink, Valentine'sNinja, Xxyuna4evaxX, Alice-In-Wonderland101, Epic Popcorn, reader713, missmurder16, LadyJamie178, Riley owns, schurmicayla(), slideshow, , Wings of Water - SKYE, tifa07, Vulcan Halps, XFamousXLastXWordsX, Niquie, mystic-fey, A.D., , karin23, Marisa, BananaPeaceMonkey, Yuleen75, cerberus angel, Mystic Dragon Eyes, , pangpond, elebelly, ellumina, DynastyWARRIORS, shadowneko003, Honest101, Teefie, Silver-Firelizard, .Latte, katong0023, AstraLs, Hyuuga's Winged Guardian, Fei angel, Peachie-Trishie, Godetan, jaykay33k, …, Lana Ves, & Kat.**

**FAQ!**

**Q: **_**Will Yuffie and Vincent be together in the end?**_

_**A: **__Perhaps. Wait and see._

_**Q: **__**Any confrontations between Tifa and the Ravens planned?**_

_**A: **__Yes._

_**Q: **__**Does Cloud has a crush on Tifa?**_

_**A: **__Well, draw your own conclusions ; )_


	10. scissors, witch, and movie night

**Chapter 10 : **_scissors, witch, and movie night_

_—  
_

_Hey you,_

_I don't like what's happening here._

_I really, really, really want to go back home. To Midgar. I miss my old friends._

_Tifa_

—

Today was Tifa's first day of counselling. She had considered skipping or begging Highwind to see that she, in fact, didn't need this.

Alas, she had her pride.

The day had gone by slowly, nothing eventful happening. It was a welcome change from her first week, which had contained more drama than she could have imagined. Tifa didn't think that counselling would be _that_ bad; no, she was more afraid of facing Cloud.

That man had the talent to make her want to punch walls over and over again.

As she walked to the counsellor's office, Tifa tried not to notice the restlessness hanging in the air. Aerith had told her yesterday night on the phone that, after every party accepting the three groups, a fight was most likely to explode. They called those the clashes. And Tifa could just feel one happening soon. She hoped she wouldn't have to take part of it.

She walked through the main office doors, only to freeze on the spot. She had thought she would be the first one to arrive, planning on gathering some time to collect herself. Cloud was sprawled in one of the chairs, almost as though he owned the place. His eyes were closed and his right arm slung over the top of the chairs beside him, fingers drumming to the beat of his music. He loosely held his mp3 player in his other hand and his head was slightly moving.

After taking a deep breath, Tifa went to sit in the chair next to him, crossing her legs and arms. She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, finding it funny that he was unaware of her presence. Bored, she took a look around. There was another kid a little farther. He was examining her and Cloud with a tiny smirk, like he knew something she didn't. Tifa frowned. His facial traits reminded her of somebody. With a jolt, she glanced at Cloud, then at the unknown guy. Sure, they both had blond hair -though Cloud's was darker- and their faces were somewhat angular… No, Tifa shook her head, a bit of a smile on her lips. They would have to be twins since they appeared to be around the same age, and she was sure she would know if Cloud had a twin.

Tifa waited until the stranger left to turn around in her seat and face Cloud's profile. She cocked her head to the side. She seriously wondered how long it would take for him to notice her. Getting fed up, she moved her hand in front of his visage, then snapped her fingers. She smiled at a girl who threw her a weird look, before slapping Cloud on the arm.

He grunted, moving to cross his arms, his head resting on the back of his chair. Tifa rolled her eyes. She should have remarked that his tapping fingers had stopped grazing her shoulder. So he was asleep. Tifa felt a devilish grin split up her face as a wicked thought weaved its way in her mind. She couldn't do that; he'd probably hunt her down and bury her alive.

But who cared?

Gently, Tifa pried the mp3 player out of its owner's hand. Puckering her lips in contemplation, she finally shrugged and raised the player's volume to its maximum.

Cloud's reaction was not at all what she had expected.

Instead of just being startled and ripping out the headphones from his ears, Cloud jumped out of his seat, falling down the chair and hitting Tifa at the same time. She cried out, clutching her nose, her knees drawn up in surprise, and he was covering his ears, stretched on the floor.

"Holy fucking crap!"

"Shit! That was my _nose_ you just hit!"

"Those were my ears you just killed!"

"Next time don't smack me, jackass!"

"Next time? _Next_ time? There won't be a next fucking time because you're gonna be _dead_."

How had she guessed he'd say that?

Cloud laid his head on the cold floor as he groaned. He slowly got on his feet and back into his chair, glowering at Tifa. He snatched the mp3 player out of her hands, stuffing it into his bag. He pushed up the sleeves of his hoodie to his elbows, muttering under his breath.

"Be immature and snub me, Cloud."

He rolled his eyes with a disdainful grimace. "It's 'cause of you I'm stuck here. I'll snub you all I want, sweetheart."

"Oh, come on. I'm sure he's not _that_ bad."

"Yeah? Well, first, he is a she, and second, you don't live with her," he spat out.

Tifa's eyebrows rose, and she wrapped her arms around her knees. The counsellor couldn't be his mother, so…?

Catching Tifa's puzzled stare, Cloud mumbled, "Elmyra Gainsborough. She's my aunt."

Tifa nodded absentmindedly. So the counsellor was Aerith's mother. That answered one of her question about Spiky.

"How come you live with her?" She prodded. She hoped she was subtle enough.

Cloud sent her a look, as if she had something funny on her face.

"Both parents are dead," he sighed.

"Oh."

"Please don't say you're sorry."

"I wasn't going to. When did they die?" Tifa added carefully.

He shrugged, and she didn't say anything else. They waited in silence as students and teachers came and went, and nearly half an hour later, a petite freshman came out of Elmyra's office. Tifa froze at the realization that it was their turn, and she felt Cloud tense beside her.

"You go first," she whispered.

"Are you crazy? _You_ go first," he replied, his voice a fierce murmur, too.

"No! You're…you're older! And you're a guy! Be a man."

"Then I'm a cowardly man!"

They jerked when a feminine voice interrupted them, "Come in, please. Tifa Lockheart?"

Cloud turned toward Tifa, a triumphant smile on his face.

"She's calling _you_, so you're first."

"Okay, desperate measures," Tifa hissed. "I call rock, paper, scissors."

"What?" He threw a panicked glance at the open door. "Alright. Two outta three."

They smacked their fist into their hand three times, ignoring the amused snort coming from their right. Tifa bit her lip as she kept her hand balled in a fist. She smirked as Cloud's hand deployed into the scissor form.

"Second round," he grumbled.

They repeated the action, not paying attention to Elmyra's voice calling them again. Tifa's smirk did not disappear. She slammed her fist on Cloud's hand.

"Men, always with the scissors," she sneered.

Cloud hissed under his breath as he got up, swinging his backpack on his shoulder. Tifa followed his move, still snickering. Cloud took three steps before he froze, spinning on his feet. "She's my aunt. At least spare me a few seconds of humiliation."

"Nope," Tifa said, and she shoved him inside the office. He stumbled, keeping his head low.

"…Cloud?"

Tifa grinned. Oh, this was _so _much fun.

"Um, yeah."

She heard paper shuffling but didn't dare to step out from behind Cloud's back. She quite preferred hiding, thank you.

"I don't believe your…name is…Tifa…Lockheart…"

Elmyra's incredulous voice made Tifa chuckle, and she had to muffle it with her hand.

"It…isn't…" Cloud scratched the back of his head.

Tifa couldn't contain it anymore. She started laughing aloud, grabbing Cloud's sweatshirt for support. He whirled around, looking murderous. This only prompted Tifa to laugh harder, her hand now resting on his shoulder.

"I don't see anything funny," he groaned.

Tifa took a deep breath to calm herself down. She grinned at Cloud's frown, patting him on the chest.

"Whiny guys are unattractive, Cloud."

She sat down the chair, saying hello to Aerith's mother. They both had chestnut hair and were fairly dainty, but the resemblances ended there. And Elmyra even seemed a little young to be the mom of a sixteen year-old. Tifa chewed on her bottom lip as Cloud plopped down on the seat next to her, wondering if she should ask Aerith.

"Can we make this quick? I need to pick up Denzel," Cloud said rudely, scowling at the ceiling.

Denzel?

Elmyra coughed, and both teens finally turned their gazes on her.

"Cloud, can you tell me why you're here, honey?" She intertwined her fingers in front of her. "Because if you're in trouble already, you are doing all the chores in the house for the next two months."

Tifa snorted. She already liked the woman.

"Ask her."

"What? No way, Strife, it's _your_ fault."

"If you hadn't thrown that thing at me -"

"If you hadn't insulted -"

"I didn't insult -"

"Guys…"

"You did!"

"Did not."

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did -"

"Next time, don't give me the opportunity!"

"Guys! Please!"

"You said I slept with you!"

"You started running -"

"That was AFTER you insulted -"

"Again!"

"Shut it, you -"

"Enough!" Elmyra shouted, raising her hands in the air.

Tifa blinked, suddenly realizing she and Cloud weren't alone. She huffed, crossing her arms and leaning on the right side of her chair as if she was trying to get as far as possible from Cloud. He rolled his eyes, propping his elbow on the armrest and resting his cheek in his palm. His expression was exasperated, and Tifa didn't need to look at herself in a mirror to know hers was the same.

"Bitch," he muttered.

"Jerk."

"I swear, if I hear another word from the two of you, you'll get detention for the month."

That certainly shut them up.

Elmyra spent a minute examining them before replacing her papers in order.

"Alright. I see why Mr. Highwind sent the both of you troublemakers here."

She didn't add anything else for a moment, too busy searching through a file.

"I don't believe I can see you today. You're free to go."

Tifa's eyes widened, and she sat higher in her seat, uncrossing her arms.

"Is this a joke, Elmyra? Because it's not funny," Cloud asked dryly.

Elmyra sent him a look that said long. "Don't use that tone with me, young man. It'll be all for today. But," she added, frowning, "if I hear that the two of you have been at it again, you'll regret it. Now shoo."

Tifa swallowed, getting up after waving to the counsellor. Cloud and her were soon out of the room. They walked in silence to the front doors, going their separate ways the second they exited the building; Cloud toward his car while Tifa headed for the sidewalk, ready to walk home.

She would fucking _kill_ Highwind.

—

"This is _disgusting_. I am not touching that."

"Me neither."

"Please. Save me?"

"…Tifa. It's a frog."

"But it's a _dead_ frog. It's not going to attack you."

"Frog."

"I don't wanna dissect it!"

"I don't wanna touch it. It's bad enough it's within two feet of me. It invades my space."

Tifa groaned, sending a revolted gaze to the amphibian. They just had to dissect frogs this year. And next week would be rats, Hojo had told them, grinning evilly.

"I swear," Tifa said, grabbing the scalpel in her gloved hand, "if I see another frog or hear this word again, I'm killing someone."

"Frogs, huh?"

Tifa's eyes slowly moved sideway, her mouth twisting in a scowl.

"I am armed, sir."

Highwind smirked, distractedly nibbling on his unlit cigarette.

"Yeah, about that; put the goddamn knife down, Lockheart."

Tifa unhurriedly lowered the scalpel, handing it over to Vincent, who took it with a low "Why me?"

"Good. Now follow me."

Tifa got on her feet, curious. She had a feeling that this meeting had to do with yesterday's failure of a consultation with Elmyra.

She silently followed Highwind out of the classroom, shrugging when Vincent threw her a tortured look. They had wasted so much time arguing about who would dissect the freaking animal that they barely had twenty minutes left to do the job.

The moment she stepped out of the room, she wanted to go back inside. Indeed, she had been right; Cloud was waiting outside, looking thoroughly jubilant to be here. He closed his eyes and sighed when he saw whom Highwind had dragged out.

"Must you persecute us so, Cid?" He drawled.

Their teacher grunted, obviously not finding the comment worth replying to. Tifa put her weight on one leg and her hand on her hip, silently praying this would take long enough for Vincent to start dissecting the frog so she wouldn't have to do it. She kind of felt bad for those thoughts but she _really_ didn't want to deal with the amphibian and its remains.

Cid cleared his throat unnecessarily loudly a few times. "I heard from Elmyra that yesterday didn't go very friggin' well. Why?"

"Cloud and I were in the same room," Tifa answered smoothly, examining her nails. She was acting detached but she sure hoped he wouldn't give her detention again.

Cid frowned, "Smartass." She smiled sweetly, batting her lashes. She heard Cloud scoff, and she didn't think twice before stomping on his foot with her sneakers. His grunt of pain made her roll her eyes.

"Stop acting like goddamn babies. I wanted to talk to you to let you know your new punishment."

"Wait, what?"

"No interruptions, Lockheart, or it's a detention. You'll be working on cars under my watch instead of whining to Elmyra about your goddamn heart-wrenching troubles. No discussion," he snapped when Tifa opened her mouth. "Spike, your aunt said she wouldn't discuss your "-he glanced at Tifa-" personal problems unless she had your frigging consent."

"_Au revoir_, counselling, then," Cloud said dully. "Can I go back to class now?

Tifa jumped, seizing his arm. "Wait! Can't we, I dunno, talk…about…tomorrow?" She faltered as both man gave her a dubious look.

"Huh, I don't know what the hell's gotten over you, but let go of my arm, Teef."

Tifa didn't even notice he had called her Teef, as she was too busy giving them a puppy look. Cid's eyebrows went to meet his hairline.

"Weird." His face abruptly lit up in comprehension, and he smiled smugly. "You don't wanna dissect that frigging frog."

Cloud looked down at her, incredulous.

Tifa bit her lip. "Busted. I know it's mean since he hates frogs, but I'd rather let Vince do it."

At the name, Cloud went rigid, and Tifa felt his arm muscles stiffen under her hand, which he hastily shook off.

Bingo.

She knew he wouldn't have had this reaction if Vincent were only the raven leader to him. And he perhaps wouldn't have known she had been talking about Vincent Valentine if it wasn't for the fear of frogs.

She was a step closer to the truth, but still had a few miles to go. She would discover and understand every single fucked-up mystery this town had.

Unaware of what was really going on, Cid started laughing, clapping Tifa on the back.

"You're a witch, Lockheart, a real witch."

And I'm just getting started, baby, Tifa thought.

—

When she arrived home from the auto-shop Wednesday, Tifa wanted to cry. Highwind had given them a totalled car to repair within the month. And they didn't have the right to talk unless it was civil; if they argued, detention; if they just insulted each other, detention; hell, if they just talked, detention.

"Freaking tyrant," she murmured under her breath.

She dropped her bag on the floor and threw herself on her bed.

A _month_. A fucking month. She would have definitely opted for counselling.

_I'm seriously about to have a nervous breakdown. I know it must be the thousandth time I've said this in a week, but people here are WEIRD. Only Elliott and Jordan are normal. I miss them. If they didn't hang out with Cloud half of the time, and the other half with Chandler and Scott, I think I would follow them everywhere. Don't get me wrong; I like Chandler, and I guess I don't hate Cloud (just strong dislike), but Scott? I'd rather spend my time with Scarlet. Okay, perhaps not. Hey, notice their names both start with 'Sc' and end with 't'? Funny._

_So, I tortured Vincent to get some info. Cruel, I know. Highwind called me a witch. You know what's the first thing that came to my mind? Bitch rhymes with witch. Cloud called me a bitch the other night. Usually, I wouldn't have cared. Like yesterday -he called me a bitch, but it wasn't _serious_. You should have seen him Friday. I was fucking scared. I didn't think he would hit me or anything, but I would have never guessed I made him this mad. He…started shouting really loudly and saying stuff that…hurt me, I guess._

_I know I can be annoying; it's just that I don't realize it until somebody tells me. It's like this guy I dated in Midgar; he only gets it's over when there's another guy in the picture. I thought it was cute for a while but then I understood he SERIOUSLY didn't get it._

_Anyway, I think I'm going to take up basketball again this year. I should have tried for volleyball, but I was too late. Try outs were last Thursday. I hope they have a feminine team here. The coach is scary, though. I'm lucky he doesn't teach me gym; apparently he's freaking severe. I heard Reno say that he failed more than half of his class last year because most of them were late or didn't run fast enough. Anyway, it's Reno who said that so I don't know if I should believe everything he says._

_Talking about Reno, I'll admit that he's pretty funny. I got him wrong on the first day. I guess he really wanted to get a fresh start. And he's not that stupid. I'm still a little unsure about his motives, though. As far as I know, he wants to be friends with me. Oh, and Rude? The bus driver? He's his best friend. I would have never guessed. I thought that maybe Zack was his best friend._

_Zack's warming up to me, too. I didn't see him at the party Friday but the house is so big that it took me half an hour or something to find Cloud, only to loose him five minutes later. I didn't see Aerith either, except for when she came into the kitchen. Something about her ticks me off. I dunno. I think it's her constant kindness. I won't say it's bad or anything -just weird. I feel like she's got this…demonic side that doesn't show. Okay, not _demonic_ side, but…yeah… I confuse myself._

_I know this is going to seem SO random, but I've got to tell you something. I mean, I can't talk about it with Jordan or Yuffie or anybody 'cause I'd just look like a dork._

_I discovered that we have yellow plastic ducks in our bathroom. That's not normal, by the way; I just hope they're not Dad's. Anyway, I was thinking, don't they look sinister? Or disturbing? Well, it's kind of the way I feel about Aerith. She looks -okay, not _cuddly_- so innocent, but I bet she's not like that. Not her -this is going to sound cheesy- true self. I could be wrong; I'm nearly convinced I'm wrong._

—

_It's been a while since I last wrote. Two weeks, I think._

_Anyway, just wanted to tell you I'm somewhat adapting. Not to the whole gang structure shit, but to the people. Kind of. Perhaps. I dunno. I just feel more at ease with them now. I guess._

_Okay, shutting up._

_Gotta head up to Zack's now. Movie night. Or whatever they're called. Apparently he does that once or twice a month. I think this week it's horror movies. I love those._

_Usually, it's only the elite that is invited, with the exception of Chandler and some guy I don't know named Donovan. Well, I met him once but I didn't know his name. I didn't know Chandler and that guy were that buddy-buddy with the elite. I know Jordan and Elliott are pretty close to them, too, but I think Zack knows they're against the gangs._

_I'm invited. I feel so privileged. Not._

_Okay, I'm seriously going to be late if I don't hurry._

_Later._

—

The first time she had walked to Zack's house, she had been accompanied. Since they had been lost, she hadn't taken time to notice how freaking _spooky_ these woods were. At first she had thought the dirt road with the brick wall would help her. But it just made the whole thing worse. Like a horror movie. Yes, she would never think of horror movies as enjoyable again, Tifa decided.

At least _she_ knew the way. Zack had made sure she would be able to find his street without having to go through the goddamn woods. Tifa let out a sigh of relief when she got a glimpse of civilization. The lamppost was…well, a lamppost, but she had some light. Finally.

It didn't take long to find Zack's mansion after that. She would recognize the house everywhere. As she climbed the steps leading to the front door -pardon, _doors_-, she noticed there were three cars in the driveway. His parents were probably home.

And how she wished she had been wrong.

When the woman opened the door, Tifa's first thought was to walk away quickly. When she took a step into the entrance hall and the six feet-over-five-inches man came in scowling, walking away evolved into running as if the world was ending.

She had thought her father was scary when he was mad. Ah. That was before she saw the Fairs senior.

Zack's dad scrutinized her without any shame, and Tifa did her best not to look at the floor. She had dressed casually, with her worn-out skater shoes, ripped jeans and faded tee shirt. She had feeling this didn't exactly pleased the Fairs.

"May I ask who you are?" Zack's mother raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms and standing completely erect.

Tifa gulped. Today was not her day.

"Tifa Lockheart, ma'am. Your son invited me."

The woman nodded, throwing a questioning glance at her husband, who only shrugged as he fastened his tie. They were both handsome, and it was easy to see how Zack had gotten his looks. And his arrogance, Tifa couldn't help but add.

Mr. Fair grunted as he put on his coat, approaching an intercom Tifa hadn't detected the last time she had been here.

"Zack, your friend's here."

So that was how they communicated? Friendly.

Zack's thundering footsteps were rapidly heard as he came down the stairs, and he grinned when he saw Tifa. "Didn't get lost?"

She had a sarcastic reply on the tip of her tongue, only she didn't want to say it in front of his parents. Instead, she settled for a sweet smile and a shake of her head. For a moment, Zack looked freaked out but he didn't say anything, only got a hold of her wrist and tugged her out of the foyer.

"Have a blast, Dad," he called behind his shoulder as they climbed up the stairs.

As soon as they were out of ear short, he whirled toward her.

"Don't smile like that. It's frankly creepy."

Tifa frowned.

"Hey. I wasn't about to say something like 'I'm not afraid of asking directions' or 'Women have a sense of orientation' in front of your parents."

Zack snorted and let go of her wrist, opening a room with a few couches and a big TV screen. It was overly simple, not what she had expected from some private movie room.

"They would have liked that. Well, my mom."

"Oh, yeah, about that. Your parents scare me. Seriously."

Zack let out a booming laugh, sitting on one of the couches. Tifa took a spot on the other end, her back to the armrest so she could face him. She drew her knees to her chin, encircling them with her arms.

"They all say that. But they're not so bad once you've proven yourself not to be weak or something. Did you shake their hands?" He asked.

"Nah. To be honest, I didn't know what to say." She nodded. "It was awkward. Hey, am I the first one to arrive?" Tifa carried on, seeing they were the only ones in the room.

"Reno's with Yuffie in the kitchen. That girl needs sugar. Cloud and Aerith should be here soon."

Tifa hummed. When she had seen Zack's mother, she had immediately wondered how they had reacted to Aerith. But it seemed so indiscreet to ask.

But, hey, who was she to deal with subtlety?

"Your parents like Aerith?"

Zack blinked, surprised.

"Well, yeah, they do. Took them a while, I guess, but now my mom loves her."

Right. Liar.

He would need to do better than that if he wanted to fool her.

"-see this one!"

"It sucks."

"I heard it's pretty go-"

"Believe me, it isn't."

"Your movie taste suck, Cloud. Nobody's gonna believe you."

"Yours is porn. Period."

"You watch porn? Seriously?"

"I _so _didn't want to know that."

"He keeps his tapes in his first drawer."

"Reno!"

"What?"

"Why am I not shocked?" Tifa said. Zack shook his head, chuckling.

The door opened, revealing Reno carrying Yuffie on his back, followed by Aerith sporting a grossed out expression. Cloud closed the march. He shut the door behind him, stopping dead in his tracks when he met Tifa's gaze. He stood rooted on the spot for a second, moving to sit on a couch before anybody else noticed. So they hadn't told him she would be here. Interesting.

"Tifa!" Yuffie jumped to sit beside her. "Did you know Reno watches porn?"

Reno rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air. "Man, why did ya tell them that?"

"Because you're a pig," Cloud answered uninterestedly.

"So?"

"And you don't make an effort to hide it."

Tifa smirked. "First drawer, right?"

Reno growled, putting his hands in his pockets, slouching. "Dude, is this Pick on Reno's day and I don't know?"

Aerith _tsked_, snuggling into Zack's side. "Whatever. Enough porn for today. What movie are we watching?"

—

Cloud had been right after all. It had been a horrible movie. Tifa had nearly slept through the first half, and they had spent the other half talking, muting the sound.

"The theatre scene was the worst," Yuffie stuck out her tongue at Zack.

"But it was the only romantic scene… I thought girls liked romance," Reno joined in, baffled.

"When it's well portrayed," Tifa scoffed. "That part made me want to puke."

"And the male lead was dumb, too," Aerith added.

"Yeah. He says he _loves_ her and he gives her his jacket. Come on."

Zack's eyebrows rose. "I thought girls found it cute when guys gave them their jacket." Reno nodded.

"No! Seriously, guys. First date, movie theatre, the girl says she's cold. She wants to _test_ the guy, to see if he really likes her. If he wraps his arm around her, he likes her. If he gives her the jacket, he's in for something else."

"Says who?"

"Desperate seventeen year-olds who need to get laid," Cloud said, his voice flat.

Tifa sent him a glare even if she knew he couldn't see her; he was sprawled on one couch, his arm covering his eyes.

"She's right, you know," Aerith mused, tapping her fingers against her chin. "But it's usually fifteen year-old girls that do that. That girl in the movie was like twenty. _That_ was desperate, Cloud."

"Whatever," he mumbled. "Lemme sleep."

Tifa let the conversation go, wondering what was up with Cloud. Since Monday he had seemed detached, always wanting to be alone or staying mostly silent during talks.

Oh, well. The jerk could do whatever he wanted.

"Guys," she interrupted, "I'm thirsty. Anybody want something to drink while I'm going to the kitchen?"

"No thanks," Aerith smiled, seemingly the only one who had heard her.

Tifa shrugged, getting up on her feet. She knew the kitchen was right down the stairs so it wasn't long before she was back at the door. She sipped her water, pondering about what to do with her French project. Vincent had transferred into her French class, apparently too advanced for the beginner's course. Ms. Crescent had given them a big project about the history of the French language due for the end of November. She had been unclear in her explications, trying to give them a general idea before the bell rang. Vincent and her had decided they would go talk to their teacher on Monday, but Tifa had been forced to skip because of the auto-shop with Cid.

"I don't think we should tell her."

Tifa stopped walking at the sound of Cloud's voice coming out from the movie room.

"She doesn't know the rules. It could turn out to be dangerous for her."

Tifa frowned. Rules…?

"But if we don't explain it to her and she takes part of it… It's better if she knows."

Aerith.

"She's lost here. She's nearing a fucking breakdown with all the stuff you're throwing at her -the elite, the ravens, now the clash? I'm not sure it's a good idea."

"Cloud…"

"Zack, you know it, man. She's not ready."

There was moment of silence, and Tifa bit her lip. She knew they were probably talking about her. Would it be so wrong to eavesdrop?

"I say she has the right to know. She spends most of her time with us. She doesn't have to know _everything_, but the clash's important."

Someone snorted, and Tifa was pretty certain it was Cloud.

"Clashes are stupid, okay? Let's not put her in unnecessary danger."

"If people follow the rules, there's no problem."

"But people _don't_ follow them, Zack. Do any of you remember the girl from last year? She was new, like Lockheart, and when she heard about the clash she decided to go see it. Some guy broke the rules and she had to go to the fucking _hospital_."

Tifa's eyes popped out. To the hospital? Now she was starting to wonder how big those clashes were. And how wild.

"Dude, the clash is tomorrow. It's tonight or never," Reno said calmly.

"Then I hope you choose never," Cloud snapped.

Tifa heard fabric shuffling and rapid footsteps. Cloud was out of the room before she could take a single step back. They both froze. Tifa swallowed, squirming a little. So she had been caught red-handed. By Cloud. She didn't know if that made it worse.

He breezed past her after a moment, murmuring as he went by, "Pretend you didn't hear that." Then he turned a corner and disappeared.

Tifa took a mouthful of water to sooth her dry throat.

She was in the middle of a very sticky situation, and she didn't know which side take.

She willed her body to move into the room, trying her best to ignore the wide-eyed stare she received.

"Um," she started, unsure, "I just saw Cloud leaving. Is he okay?"

These guys really needed to learn the meaning of discretion, as they instantly looked relieved she didn't mention their 'secret' discussion.

"Cloud is Cloud." Aerith smiled a shaky smile. "He got angry over nothing."

Tifa nodded, taking back her seat. "So, do we watch another movie?"

The tension vanished from the air, and Zack got up to choose a new DVD. It wasn't long before him, Yuffie, and Reno started arguing over the choice. Aerith still looked a little stiff, but Tifa didn't say anything.

The clash, huh?

Interesting.

—

**A/N: any guesses who that blond kid was?**

I luuvv you:

**BananaPeaceMonkey, elebelly, , Honest101, shadowneko003, XFamousXLastXWordsX, Teefie, pangpond, Tori128, Silver-Firelizard, missmurder16, , Alice-In-Wonderland101, TheMagicalTapeworm, .Latte, Riley owns, katong0032, cerberus angel, , bepsey007, slideshow, Hyuuga's Winges Guardian, Fei angel, Marisa, …, NamieAndGackt4ever, Toons, Valentine'sNinja, d0rkgoddess, demonegg, just me, Bat, everyday-snowangel, dollyrot, Bailey, Fonther Arget, Vulcan Halps, jo, & NeonXSuJu.**

FAQ!

_**Q: Will Vincent fall for Tifa?**_

_A: uhhh, perhaps? : )_

_**Q: Does Cloud have a secret role in the elite?**_

_A: He kind of does, but not necessarily a good one. And he isn't the most powerful member._

_**Q: Will Cloud get jealous of Tifa's closeness with Vincent?**_

_A: I wouldn't say jealous… Something huge came in between Cloud and Vincent, and it's not exactly good. And, no, it's not Zack & the elite : )_


	11. warning, the clash, and bruises

_thanks to demonegg for the help_

—

**Chapter 11 : **_warning, the clash, and bruises_

—

So it had come to this, Tifa Lockheart mused as she stared intensely at the phone. She had shed all remaining of her pride. She had been reduced to call HIM.

She pursed her lips and reconsidered her options in a last hope that there was anything else.

Jordan had said he was sworn to secrecy and hadn't backed down even after two hours of constant pestering. Elliott had been coincidentally unreachable. Vincent was more silent than usual. She couldn't ask any member of the elite, Elena was also out of the question, Jessie probably wouldn't tell her a single thing, and Chandler was a big no-no. Everybody else she knew would either tell Cloud or the elite. Even goddamn Scarlet would go run to them. She knew only one person who would keep the secret, which wouldn't be that much of a secret in a few hours.

Tifa crossed her legs on her bed, glared for the last time at the phone, and dialed the number that was scrawled on her hand.

It took him four rings before he finally answered with a dull, "Yo?"

She bit her lips so not to blurt anything degrading as she couldn't sabotage her one and only chance. The one-word greeting really didn't suit him as it suited Reno.

"Um, yeah?"

"Who is this?"

"I need a ride," Tifa exclaimed. She cringed at the tone of her voice. It sounded too loud and desperate.

"What sort of ride? Because I even give rides in a ride." She could practically _hear_ the smirk.

"Grow up, bastard. I need a ride to go somewhere."

"Baby, I can take you _somewhere_."

"Stop with the goddamn innuendos, Scott," Tifa snapped.

There was a pause, and she thought he had hung up on her.

"Wait… Is that Tifa?" He asked suspiciously.

She let out a groan of exasperation. "Yes."

"As in Lockheart?"

"How many Tifas do you know?"

Another silence, and he was back to the monotonous voice.

"Why should I give you a ride _somewhere_?"

"Because," Tifa began, "I asked you very kindly and will support you in a car and won't hit you."

For once he seemed to catch the sarcasm in her tone. "Ha ha. Hilarious. Can I go back to my business, or is that bothering you too?"

Tifa sighed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. He wasn't going to make her say _please_, right?

"C'mon, Scott. That's all I ask. I know you're going too."

"What…? I have…no idea… Oh, my god, no you're kidding me, you're fucking kidding me. You wanna _go_?"

She bit her lip before answering. Why were they all shocked about her decision? "Yes. And nobody else will take me."

"Have you ever thought there must be a reason for that?"

She didn't reply, as she knew he was right.

_Some guy broke the rules and she had to go to the fucking hospital._

"I know the risks," she semi-lied. She knew enough to say it wasn't rainbows and unicorns.

"I'll think about it," Scott said curtly, and she knew he was about to hang up.

"Wait, no! You have -no, you _need-_ to take me there, Scott! Or at least tell me where it is." Tifa felt disgusted at the sound of her own voice uttering those words. She was nearly begging.

She chewed on her fingernails as she waited for him to talk. Tifa knew better than to go to the clash. For Cloud to defend her like that and oppose the power Zack represented… As much as she didn't like him, Tifa had to admit that Cloud didn't do anything without a reason, and so she was aware of the dangerousness of the clash if people broke the rules. Now she just had to pray nobody would actually break them.

"Alright. But I'm innocent in all this. If your boyfriend tries to kill me, you jump in front of the bullet…or fists…or whatever he will use."

Tifa blinked, half-smiling at the stupidity of the statement.

"Who's my boy?"

"I dunno, you tell me," Scott said, bored. "Your address?"

Tifa tapped her finger on her chin, contemplative. She didn't really want Scott Vaughn to have her home address. "Pick me up a corner before the end of Seventh Street. What hour?"

"Uh… That's near Cloud's… Ask him next time," he grumbled. "I'll be there at six. And if you're not there, I'm not waiting." And he hung up.

Tifa smiled. Mission accomplished.

—

Nibelheim's weather is quite strange, Tifa mused as she waited for Scott to turn the corner and appear. But in a way, it makes its charm.

When she had arrived here at the end of August, the contrasting weather had surprised her. Colder than Midgar on Monday, thunderstorms on Tuesday, over 75 degrees on Wednesday… She had taken up the habit of checking the forecast channel before going to sleep every night.

Although it was past six, the sun was still up and shining. There were little clouds in the sky, and Tifa amused herself by trying to guess what they looked like. Lying on somebody's lawn, she watched as the clouds went by her. She knew Scott was late without looking at the time on her cell phone, but she stayed on the grass. She guessed he was late on purpose, thinking that after a while she would go home. But he would come, and Tifa grinned as she heard a car stop in front of her. Score: Tifa, one; Scott, zero.

"Get in there!"

Sighing, Tifa rose to her feet, dusting off her pants and readjusting her sweater. She had dressed warmly and comfortably, not bothering with makeup except for some lip balm and soft grey eyeliner.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," she yelled as he honked. Damn, this guy needed to learn the meaning of patience.

Scott's car was a mess. At her feet were empty beer and soda cans, along with some questionable magazines. Tifa rolled her eyes when she saw an open box of condoms lying on the ground. A box of tapes rested on the back seat, along with a blanket and a ripped math manual.

"Well," Tifa said cheerfully, "this is charming."

She nodded a few times as if to accentuate her point, smirking at the exasperated expression that crossed Scott's eyes.

"So, where is it?"

Silence.

"Is it held at the same place each year?"

The buzzing of a fly near her ear and her own breathing was all she heard.

"Are you forced to participate?"

She scrolled down the window to let the annoying fly out.

"Are you wearing underwear?"

"NO!"

"Really?"

Scott looked furious already, and Tifa saw red creeping up his neck.

"No, I mean, no I'm not forced to participate, and no, it's not always to the same place. I am wearing underwear," he added gruffly.

Poor guy, Tifa thought. He was too easy.

"Uh uh. I believe you."

"It's truth!"

"Yeah, I said I believe you. You don't need to tell me that. Unless…" She trailed off, resisting the urge to smirk.

"I am weari- What the fuck are we having this conversation? Screw this."

They fell into a silence again, but this time it wasn't strained.

When they arrived near a park with a soccer field, Tifa knew they had reached their destination. Dozens of Nibelheim students were standing on the field and some -Tifa saw they were mainly girls- were sitting in the metal bleachers. She swallowed the lump in her throat, aware of Scott's watching eyes. She still had time to go home…

"Hand me the bandana."

Tifa looked from his pointed finger to the glove compartment before raising her glaze to his. His eyes were stony and cold, and his mouth was set into a grim line. She took the grey bandana that was inside the compartment, gave with to him and got out of the car. Scott followed her slowly, tying the neckerchief around his neck. They started walking toward the bleachers.

"Can't they strangle you with that?" Tifa asked.

Scott shrugged, absentmindedly playing with the fabric. "Against the rules."

_Some guy broke the rules and she had to go to the fucking hospital_.

Now she started to realize how big this was.

Tifa nodded, hesitating when she saw he was heading toward a small huddle of guys.

"Scott, I guess I should…hum…"

"Don't."

"Yeah, okay." She smiled slightly and he nodded. Refusing her thanks was something she had never thought he would do. She had expected him to smirk and make her grovel.

Considerably in a better mood, Tifa whirled around, only to find herself face-to-face with the visage from her nightmares.

"What are you doing here?"

Cloud's voice was loud and angry, making some people look into their direction. Tifa didn't mind them; she had gotten used to people staring when she talked with Cloud. That still didn't mean she wanted him to scream at her.

"Calm down," she mumbled, trying to get past him. He grabbed her arm, bringing her closer.

"I told you! Tifa, I told not to come," he hissed.

She kept her gaze behind his shoulder. Yes, she was experiencing some regret for coming, but she didn't want him to know that.

"I had to see it by myself," she whispered back. She shook her arm free from his iron grasp. "If you had explained…"

"I didn't have to explain!" Cloud yelled, raising his hands to the sky. "I thought it was _evident_. You heard us."

Tifa crossed her arms, bringing her weight on one foot. She noticed he had a grey bandana, too. So he was taking part of it.

"I was curious. Cloud, you didn't really expect me _not_ to come after what you said."

"Yes, I did," he snapped, leaning in. "I thought you were smart enough."

She huffed, but curiously, she wasn't angry with him for arguing. Perhaps it was the recognition that he was obviously right, she didn't know. But something in Cloud's gaze worried her.

"Tifa…" He groaned, running his hand into his hair. "Alright."

He snatched her wrist, dragging her behind the bleachers. A couple of girls were talking on the other side, not paying attention to them. Tifa stood nervously in front of Cloud as he observed her, his eyes narrowing. She could feel something was off about him.

"I'm stupid, I should have told you. Maybe you wouldn't have come," he started, lifting up his hand to tell her he wasn't finished. "They break rules. Especially Kadaj and his brothers. And Kadaj has wanted to get back at you since day one. Today's the perfect opportunity." He sat on the grass, and Tifa copied him. "They wanted to tell you about the clash but that's why I was opposed to that. I told Jordan, Elliott and Chandler." He twirled a blade of grass between his fingers. He cleared his throat. "Vincent warned Jessie so she could tell me."

_He tried to convince Loz and I to beat you up, but Loz said he preferred to 'play with you'._

Had he really known for that long? Shouldn't have Vincent, her friend, warned her?

She could feel Cloud's piercing and calculating glance on her but she didn't move.

_He tried to convince Loz and I to beat you up, but Loz said he preferred to 'play with you'._

_Some guy broke the rules and she had to go to the fucking hospital_.

Those two thoughts kept playing in Tifa's mind, making her doubt about everything. She could only come to the conclusion that Cloud seemed to be the only reliable person in town. He had been the only one who had tried to keep her away from the clash, and for a good reason.

"What do I do, then?" She blurted out, murmuring.

"I'll keep an eye on them."

A multitude of ideas invaded her head so Tifa only shrugged.

"I have a call to make," she mumbled, getting to her feet.

"Teef, wait-"

No, she wouldn't wait. She was tired of waiting and being kept in the dark, and she was tired of having to run after people to know the truth. She took a few steps away from the bleachers, punching the keys of her cell phone. He answered on the first ring but she didn't stop walking.

"You're a jerk," was the first thing she said, but her voice wasn't as firm as she had hoped.

"Tifa?"

"You know what I've just been told? That some fucking psycho guy wants to _hurt_ me? You know what day we are, Vince?"

She was talking too fast and her words were jumbled. She didn't take time to think about what she was saying.

"It's the clash today. And the psycho guy decided to go for me. But you didn't know that, right? Because you would have told me, right? Because you're my friend?"

"Tifa…"

"I'm getting fucking fed up with people lying to me!" Tifa shouted into her phone. She froze, looking at the street full with parked cars. "Why did you tell Jessie, Vince? Why not me? I'm the one who's apparently in danger here!"

"Listen, Tifa-"

"No! I'm here now and I shouldn't be, but I didn't know that. You know why, Vincent? Because you lied to me! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Stop it. Just listen, please." She thought she could discern a pleading note but she didn't care.

"I can't belie- Hey!" Tifa cried out when her phone was snatched out of her hand. She looked up. Cloud was looking at her with something akin to worry etched on his face, and the phone was against his ear.

"She'll call you back later." The words were simple and rude, but efficient.

Tifa snapped out of it when Cloud closed the phone and put an arm around her shoulders. It was then she realized her vision was blurred.

"What the fuck…" She grumbled, wiping the tears from her eyes before they could fall.

Cloud squeezed her shoulders. "Let's go back."

She shook her head, taking a deep breath to calm herself. "I want to go home."

He didn't say anything, and she was grateful. At least he had understood that she didn't want to go back to her house, but to Midgar.

"I'll keep an eye on them," he said again quietly.

She didn't move, except to take her phone from his fingers and tucking it into her back pocket. She raised her gaze to his, feeling nervous once more. He was scrutinizing her, probably making sure she wouldn't breakdown in tears. She noticed for the first time the small wolf earring he sported.

Looking at him, she wondered if he still hated her and was acting out of pity.

"You hate me?"

Cloud closed his eyes for a moment. "I don't. I already told you that."

_nothing important. why do u care? i thought u hated me._

_Me too._

She nodded. "Right. So you like me, then?" She couldn't believe how tiresome she sounded.

He sighed. "Just shut up for once, Lockheart."

"Sure," she muttered.

"Let's go."

He released his hold and started walking toward the bleachers. He didn't look behind him, knowing she would follow.

Tifa stood still a moment, collecting herself. She didn't want to think about what was happening, about her reaction, about Vincent, about everything concerning this goddamn town. She took a deep breath, adjusted her clothes, and set off after Cloud. He already was talking with someone but she could see his eyes darting into her direction, as if making sure she was all right. Tifa brushed past him without a word, feeling uncomfortable again. She had difficulty understanding how he could be considerate of her when she was such a bitch to him, and to everybody else.

Heading for the bleachers, Tifa saw Scarlet staring at her mischievously. Not now, Tifa thought, trying her best to ignore the girl's unblinking gaze. The bleachers were occupied mainly by girls, and Tifa suddenly realized that she knew nobody sitting there except for Scarlet, but she would rather go fight the guys than to spend some 'quality time' with the witch. Trying to act distracted, she went for the far left, where only one skittish girl sat staring at the throng of tense people. She was short, and wisps of black hair typical to the Wutain escaped her hood and framed her face. In a way, she reminded her of Jessie.

As she took place besides the girl, Tifa felt the heat of a gaze on her. She raised her head, finding herself face to face with a blank-faced Jordan. She shuddered. Never had he looked so serious.

"They're not going to kill me, you know," she drawled, making a point not to look at him.

"I know."

"Then stop staring at me like that. You're just creeping me out even more than usual."

Jordan fingered the bandana that was wrapped around his neck in a casual fashion, and Tifa was surprised he didn't look nervous. She hadn't even expected him to participate but she guessed he didn't have much of a choice.

"I'm not even sure it's true," he blurted out.

"What do you mean?"

"The threat; Kadaj's threat. It's too random and out of nowhere. I don't like it, but… I don't know." He let out an exasperated groan, as if the thought was too hard for him. "I don't see Vincent lie about that, or Cloud," he added," but I have difficulty believing that shit."

"Then you do you think did it?" She said quietly.

Jordan's brown eyes darted to a spot behind her shoulder.

"Scarlet," he answered bluntly.

Tifa blinked. Scarlet? She knew they didn't even came close to being friendly or just polite, but she would have never thought she would have started such rumours.

"That bitch is going down," Tifa seethed, ready to jump out of her seat.

Jordan put his hand on her knees to stop her. "No need. Chandler'll take care of that. I'm sure Donovan will be glad to help."

Unable to glare at her nemesis, Tifa glared at her friend. A tiny smile found its way on Jordan's face, and Tifa felt her body relax. If Jordan was back to normal, than it would be alright.

"I don't even know who Donovan is."

He shrugged. "He goes to college. An old of the wolves but he kept contact after he graduated. You've got to be the biggest retard to do that."

Tifa grinned. That she agreed on. Then, as she watched Zack's car come to a stop near, she sobered.

"Hey, Jordan?" She began softly. "Do you think it's going to be horrible?"

"I don't know, doll, I don't know. It's usually the same guys who fight. It's more a way to settle difference, so if you don't have enemies, you don't get hurt. Since everybody's in love with me I have no problem," he smirked.

Tifa rolled her eyes, smacking him lightly behind the head.

"You're not about to start that _again_?"

She sniggered, reminiscing the night of the party. With a mock glower, she pretended to hit him again.

"Zack'll be calling out the rules soon," he stated, taking hold of her hand. "A kiss for good luck?" He puckered his lips and closed his eyes, trying to hold his laughter in. Tifa gave him a chaste peck on the cheek, and he sighed dreamily.

"Go fight now, you brave knight." She gave him a light push but he caught her hand again at the last minute.

"Seriously, Tifa, don't watch. Most of the time it's just guys shoving other guys but at some point it's a big riot. Not a sight for a lady."

"I thought you said only some guys fought."

"It's true. Then the friends decide to step in, so other friends step in, and then everybody steps in."

She nodded. "Away with you now."

Tifa examined the crowd Jordan disappeared in, rapidly spotting Cloud. He was standing a little on the edge, and when he saw her, he started jogging toward the bleachers. No, go away; don't come talk to me, Tifa thought.

"You'll be fine?" He asked carefully.

She wanted to tell him nastily that she didn't usually breakdown and that what he had seen was a one-time thing and that it wouldn't ever happen again. She swallowed the spiteful words that menaced to burst out and only nodded. Cloud didn't notice her internal conflict; he strolled back to the mass of people, soon vanishing out of her sight.

His previous kindness puzzled her. The way she had reacted to him since the first day of school… She knew she had been bitchy and unpleasant, and not only with Cloud. She had managed to convince herself that it was because she had been recently thrown into a completely disparate universe from the one she had grown up in, but now, as she apprehensively observed the group of guys gathering near Zack's car, she was conscious she hadn't fooled anyone.

It had been fear. Pure, raw fear of the unknown. Where it had come from, she didn't know -or didn't want to admit it. It was normal to be scared of a new school, a new world, but not for her -she refused to be scared; she had always been strong and had to continue on this path.

Zack climbed on the hood of his car, wide grin stretching his face, and he started to recite the rules. Tifa looked but didn't listen. She caught some words here and there but it wasn't enough to break her out of her daydream. She tried to understand her own attitude but to do that, she had to put away her pride to the side and examine her insides.

She saw Jordan grab Elliott by the neck, Cloud standing with his hands in his pockets and his face hooded, Zack smiling and talking, Reno smirking at a raven.

Jordan and Elliott hated the system; they were her comfort zone. The two best friends were the only persons she could act natural with because she wasn't afraid she'd do something wrong. Reno was the first one to offer her friendship and he was so reckless around people; but she was aware he cared about his position as an elite member more than he'd ever confess to her. Zack was a good guy. But he was the grey cloud looming over her sky, the threat to her freedom. Every time she was with him or Aerith she felt as though she was covering her tracks, or hiding from something bad she hadn't even done. She had been obnoxious with the last two because they were strangers. Unwelcome change. She hadn't wanted them in her life, and she doubted she would miss them if she moved out of Nibelheim right now.

She had difficulty defining Cloud. He had been there to help her -although in an unusual way- but she wasn't certain his actions were genuine or if he was only playing the nice guy act. Every time he had warned her it had been for a reason -Cole, the clash, Kadaj and his brothers. She thought for a moment that her ill temper was triggered by his own temper. Or what is because he was a jerk, if he really was one to begin with? She had always shook her head at the heroines in books who acted bitchy to conceal their fear of getting hurt and she had always told herself she would never be one of them. Was her hostility the twisted result of this resolution? She had never hidden her fright of being hurt. Had she tried to conceal her fear of becoming like that, a girl who hid being sarcasm and ice and who sneered at the hand reached out to her, only to become one? Had she been mean to Cloud because he had wanted to help her? He had tried to shield from some of the bizarreness of Nibelheim and she had answered with offensive words. She found it a bit dramatic to say she had never wanted this fate, but it was some sort of comedy relief she heavily needed after this semi-revelation.

Zack was still talking when she snapped out of her daze. A mild pressure on her side made her turn to the small girl sitting on her left.

"You might want to listen," she whispered.

Tifa waved her hand distractedly, gesturing that she was fine. She had been the curious one about the rules and she had missed them. Great.

"Just remember guys," Zack finished, "don't get caught." He jumped down, landing without problem on the grass, and went for the middle of the crowd.

Confused as to what exactly was going on, Tifa whirled around to face the girl. Now that she was closer and that her hood was down, she could see that the girl wasn't of wutain lineage. She discerned blonde roots, as well as light brown strands streaking the waist-long curls. Her eyes were a dark blue, bordering on indigo. Around her neck was a gold necklace with a name -hers, Tifa supposed- written in an elegant cursive.

She definitely didn't look like Tifa had imagined.

"Oh, my God, you're Phoebe the raven," Tifa exclaimed, bringing her hand to her mouth to conceal a smirk.

The girl looked taken aback but she nodded yes. Tifa let her beam of contentment show. This was the highlight of her day.

"Sorry, sorry," she said, "but I heard _so_ much about you -positive, of course- and I couldn't wait to meet you."

What was supposed to be a manly warrior cry reached them from the throng. Tifa glanced sideways, only to see Cole sitting on the shoulders of Chandler.

"Men."

"You tell me," Phoebe smiled. "What's your name?"

"Tifa." It was one of the first time since she had arrived here that somebody actually asked for her name. It was a welcome change.

At her answer, Phoebe's smile diminished. "The new girl?"

And here was the reaction she had expected. Tifa sighed. "Who cares?"

It was, in a way, a tricky question, and Tifa knew it. Phoebe could say politely that she had friends waiting for her and go away, or she could shake her head and allow her smile to retrieved its brightness. She was relieved to witness option two.

"What did Zack mean by don't get caught?" Tifa asked as she stared at the guys starting to push each other. Jordan's words rushed back into her mind. _Most of the time it's just guys shoving other guys but at some point it's a big riot._

"Have an escape plan ready for when the cops show up."

Tifa gulped. She didn't have one. She certainly wasn't going to ask Scott again so that left her with Jordan, Elliott or Cloud. It would depend on which one was nearer, she decided.

"It's starting," Phoebe murmured.

Tifa's gaze shifted to the guys who were shuffling with a visible anticipation. She could see a couple of guys fighting violently in the middle, most of the crowd cheering them on. Suddenly, another fight began. Then another, followed by two persons arguing vociferously. The rest of them were yelling. Abruptly, everyone was pulled in. The swarm of teenagers was one again, and all you could see were the bodies moving continuously, nobody was pausing even for the third of a second.

It was sickening. A hideous portrait of violence Tifa had never wished to experience. She realized then that she had been warned for a reason. The bleachers where just about three feet from the mass and all it would need for somebody to get thrown in was a push. A push, and she would have a ticket for the hospital.

She was aware, deep inside, that some people were safer than others. Although there were easily over a hundred guys in the school, not all were fighting. The ones that had been exchanging blows on the sides were mostly fighting one-on-one. Some had retreated to the bleachers, falling down on the grass in exhaustion.

It was a pitiful show but no one seemed able not to watch.

Unconsciously, Tifa gripped Phoebe's arm tightly as she searched for people she knew. She thought for a moment she caught a flash of red hair but it was gone too fast to tell. There were tons of guys with black, blond and brown hair, so she let her quest go.

"How long has it been?" Tifa uttered. Her voice cracked on the last word.

"Not even five," Phoebe replied. Tifa had to strain her ears to listen. The noise coming from the fight was so loud she wanted to cover her ears.

There was a distant sound, like a wail, and everybody froze. Two police cars were speeding down the road, heading for the park.

Straightaway, the clash was over. Girls rose from their seat in panic and guys broke away from the fight. Tifa didn't let go of Phoebe's arm as they tried their best to get down the bleachers without getting thrown on the ground and tramped on.

Something latched upon her wrist and she was forced to run.

"Don't stop!" Cloud shouted.

Behind them, Jordan and Elliott were running, quickly catching up, and Phoebe was hot on their heels. They weren't the only ones going to the back of the park, where a metal fence separated the grocery store parking lot from the soccer field. Tifa's eyes widened as the prospect of climbing over the barrier. She had never done that, or at least never done that over one that high and while running from the cops.

Cloud came to a swift stop besides the fence. He grabbed her by the waist, lifting her high enough that she wouldn't have much trouble jumping over the lace fence. In her haste her foot missed a chain link and she fell forward, letting out a small whimper of pain as the metal rammed into her stomach. Elliott and Jordan already were on the other side, and Cloud was helping Phoebe get over the wall. Tifa jumped down, landing shakily on her ankles. Elliott was by her side in an instant, but she pushed him away.

"I'm fine," she ground out.

It was true. The stab at her stomach had caught her by surprise and had hurt on the spot but it was no more than a dull ache now. Her legs still felt unsteady but nothing was twisted or broken.

Cloud landed beside her and the race was on again.

Tifa was glad when his car came into sight. They hadn't run for that long but the chance of stumbling across a police officer made shivers ran down her spine. She didn't want to picture her father's face the moment he would learn he would have to fetch her at the station.

As soon as Cloud unlocked the doors, they set off. Tifa laid back against the passenger seat, exhaling.

"Never again," she groaned.

Somebody chuckled -she guessed it was Jordan- and she turned around to give him a piece of her mind. It was then she noticed the back seat situation. She smirked. Jordan immediately detected her change in attitude and he glanced at his right.

"Tifa…"

"I know!"

"You're devilish. I love you."

They both started snickering, much to the discomfort of Elliott.

"Don't encourage her," Cloud muttered.

Tifa gave him a black look but failed because of the huge grin she sported.

"Don't be a killjoy, Cloud."

"Shut up you guys," Elliott mumbled from where he was huddled. Poor guy, Tifa mused. Here is the girl he likes and he tries his best not to touch her.

Somebody coughed, bringing attention to herself. Every eyes except for Elliott's shifted to Phoebe.

"I live right here."

The air changed from warm to cold. Phoebe might have been comfortable with Tifa but now she was in a car full of wolves, including a member of the elite. Tifa internally winced. As great as Phoebe's confidence was, it was clear she didn't want to be here.

Luckily, Jordan was here to save the day, Tifa told herself.

"Don't be shy, Phoebe. I'm Jordan, this is Cloud, Tifa, and the one hugging the car wall his Elliott. He's so taken by your beauty that he can barely breathe, can't you see?"

"Stop, Jordan, she thinks you're mocking her." Tifa rolled her eyes. "But he isn't," she told Phoebe with a large and -she hoped- reassuring smile.

The girl blushed, crossing her arms as if to protect herself from all the scrutiny she was receiving.

"Don't listen to them, they're idiots," Elliott intervened but still glancing outside.

"Could somebody explain to me what's happening?" Cloud sighed.

Tifa slid down her seat, trying her best to stifle her laughter at the situation. Maybe it was because nobody wanted to talk about the clash and therefore, everything appeared so funny. Or perhaps it was just her needing to hide from the truth of the events. She pushed the thought far in the back of her head. She had done enough thinking for the day.

"Excuse me," Phoebe coughed again, "but I really live here."

"Great!" Jordan cried out. "Elliott lives a street down. Cloudie, stop, please."

"Go to hell, man."

He stopped the car anyway, and Jordan jumped out, offering his hand to Phoebe. She took it with a kind of nervous smile. At least she looked more at ease now.

Elliott was gaping. "What the fuck, Jordan?"

"No swearing, Elliott! There is a lady here."

"Hey! I'm here, too, you know," Tifa frowned.

Jordan's gaze swiped over her, and he beamed.

"Oh, _yeah_. A _real_ lady."

He closed the door once Elliott was out of the car, not letting her the possibility to respond. It was then, as they both guys walked away with Phoebe, that Tifa noticed the cut on Jordan's cheek and the swelling around his eye, Elliott's broken glasses and the finger-shaped bruises circling his neck and the limp in his walk. She didn't turn her eyes away as Cloud sped off, only to realize that the force tugging at her arm was his hand.

"Come on."

Two words, but it did the trick. Trying to ignore him, Tifa sat straight, repressing the need to look at his own injuries. It was stupid to think it was her fault, but she felt it was. Maybe she could have done something to stop them from going, anything. She noticed every motions Cloud did, like discreetly wiping the blood leaking from a cut and the way he rubbed his jaw.

They stayed silent through the whole ride to her home, and when he came to a stop she was grateful he didn't say 'told you so!' Torn between two options, Tifa decided she couldn't let him leave like that. Not after tonight.

"You wanna come in?"

Cloud looked briefly at her empty driveway. "Your father's not home."

She didn't quite understand why he would be worried about that, but nodded anyway.

"Doesn't matter. Come on," she repeated his words as she opened the door.

She heard a resigned sigh as she climbed out and went for her door. Once inside she headed directly for the kitchen, making sign for him to follow.

"I think we've got a first aid kit in the closet. Just wait."

"Sure."

She squirmed at his answer. Their dialogue was just so empty it put her on edge. Rummaging through the cupboards, Tifa thought about what Cloud had said outside. _Your father's not home_. Simple words, but she knew there was a deeper meaning to them. Certainly he didn't know about her father's frequent travels and his lack of care toward her? Her friends were for the most part aware that he often was away for business, but she hadn't told anybody that he was home no more than a week per month. And none knew that her mother was dead- oh, wait. Scarlet had yelled it in the cafeteria on the first day of school.

Tifa felt like letting a long list of curses.

"Where's that goddamn kit?" She breathed out.

Finally she found it, blushing when she saw it had been right in her face and she had been too blind to see it. Moving back to the table where Cloud waited, she tossed it to him, making a beeline for the fridge.

"Do you want something to drink?"

"Water?"

"Sure."

She took out two bottles, putting one in front of him. Tifa hoisted herself up on the counter facing the table, and took a big gulp of water. They both didn't say anything as Cloud attempted to clean his cuts on his face and cover one with a plain band-aid. He swore under his breath as the plaster ended up stuck in his hair.

"Jesus. Come here, I'll help you."

A grunting Cloud walked up to her, handing her the first aid kit with an evident relief. Finding the situation a little amusing, Tifa chose a band-aid with chocobo designs while Cloud closed his eyes and hissed as she disinfected his lip cut. A large bruise nearly covered the entire left side of his jaw, and he had another cut on his forehead. Snickering to herself, Tifa put the bandage on his forehead. She bit her lip to control her evil smile at his clueless expression.

"Since you're such a good nurse, mind doing those too?" He drawled.

Tifa glanced at his right hand; the knuckles were busted and some blood was still seeping out. Slowly, she cleaned his hand, wrapping his grey bandana around it once she was done.

"There. All nice and clean."

Cloud thanked her and took a step back. He stared at her, gaze unblinking. She wanted to thank him, too, but the words wouldn't come.

"It was stupid," she blurted out. "You were right."

He didn't nod with a cocky smirk or shrug with forced indifference. He only continued to stare at her.

"Jordan told me about Scarlet."

She was glad she wasn't the one to bring the subject up.

"She was sitting right behind you. Why didn't you change place?"

She should have, she remarked to herself, but she hadn't wanted to show Scarlet that she was scared. Cloud didn't need to know that.

"I didn't think about it," she lied smoothly, making sure to maintain eye contact.

"I should have known. Last year it wasn't those guys, it was her. She hated that girl. She pushed her." He said this as though he was only now uncovering everything. "That bitch."

"Can't disagree with that."

They both let out a light chuckle but the tension was still there.

"You should call him."

Tifa froze.

Cloud? Proposing she called Vincent? The idea was surreal.

"I can't," she replied.

"Why?"

She cocked her head to the side, feeling strangely insecure.

"I overreacted. I really did."

_I'm ashamed_. The omitted words hung in the air. She knew he had gotten the message.

He nodded. "Right. But you should anyway. He's your…friend, no?"

She noticed the slight pause before he said friend. She wanted to ask him why since it seemed like the thing to do, but she already knew the answer. They had been best friends. The moment was perfect to interrogate him; both were letting their guards down, both were calling it a truce without actually voicing it. Her hesitation was readable, and she could tell he sensed it by his frown.

"I know," was all she said but he understood.

"Who?" To her surprise he didn't seem angry. Until she spotted his white knuckles. Did she really want to denounce Rosemary? Yes, she did.

"Rosemary something."

"The night of the party," he noted to himself, or so she thought until she saw he was waiting for her to confirm it.

"Yeah. She asked me something and then she started rambling about God-knows-what and I was curious. I was angry." _I was hurt_.

Cloud didn't add anything for over five minutes and Tifa couldn't cower from his stare. She didn't want to acknowledge she feared his reaction but the way he stood unmoving worried her.

"Cloud? Stop that," she whispered.

His eyes steadily came back to life and his features relaxed.

"I'm not angry with you."

She found that hard to believe.

"I was just thinking about something."

She had a hunch 'something' was linked to his riff with Vincent, but she didn't press on.

"You should go." For some reason she didn't want to be alone; she knew it had nothing to do with Cloud or Vincent.

Cloud chuckled. "Yeah, I should. Don't forget to call him."

Tifa didn't budge was he gathered his jacket and said goodbye and walked out.

The moment he was out of the door she felt something liquid on her cheek. Then another tear joined the other. She closed her eyes and brought a hand to her mouth.

_I want out._

—

**A/N: **So Tifa had some sort of epiphany, but, hey, I'm no James Joyce :) This was not checked for mistakes. There are probably hundreds.

thank you:

**Cammy, BananaPeaceMonkey, Unknown, katong0032, ClotiNotCleris, 7777, SugarHoney91, pangpond, elebelly, sam, vx-Luna-xv, Rend, -x, cerberus angel, Moonlightlatte, Marisa, blob, cloudlover2989, Fuck Yeah, .slideshow., BlueWings92, blue ahses89, xOx-Just-Like-Yesterday-xOx, & Eva Von Dee**


	12. fighting, delivery boy, and differences

**Chapter 12 : **_fighting, delivery boy, and differences_

_—  
_

Restless people moved, pushing him toward the centre of the crowd, the very place he wanted to avoid. He knew fighting his way out would be hell, but he was an average fighter, so maybe he would manage to get out with all of his teeth. He knew he had reached the centre when he saw two guys arguing. Their names escaped him, but he didn't make the effort to search through his memory because it simply didn't matter to him; all he cared about was that these two boys had always been the ones to start the big fight. He was smack in the middle, all right.

The heat emanating from the dozens of pulsating bodies made him somewhat dizzy, and he tugged at the fabric circling his neck. His t-shirt felt stifling, his jeans were too rough against his skin, and his shoes were too heavy. Soon his hands were moist and his throat was dry. He had always felt this way before the clash, nervous and excited at the same time. He guessed it was sick to have such adrenaline pumping through his body, to not being able to stay put because he couldn't wait to move. At least the edginess balanced the equation.

Cloud Strife wiped his palms on his jeans, ran an almost-shaking hand through his mop of blond hair, and managed a half-smirk for the sake of the public.

He was the tough rebel who didn't give a shit and kept more or less to himself. He had never been a guy to care about his reputation, but when this exact reputation gave him exactly what he wanted -peace, or at least some twisted version of peace; he didn't really believe that a tranquillity triggered by what he thought was fear was sane-, he was quite happy to maintain appearances.

He strained his ears to listen to the two boys yelling. It probably was over an ex-girlfriend, or maybe one had keyed the other's car. It was difficult to catch even the loudest word as everybody was shouting, and the buzzing in his ears didn't want to go away. His attention drifted to poor Elliott who had also been propelled in heart of the fight. The guy hated confrontations, and he was going to have it rough, Cloud could just feel it. He remembered the way Elliott had struggled last year. Reno had saved him, then. It was a selfish thing to think of, but Cloud hoped he wouldn't have to drag the dude out of the crowd. He had enough to worry about with himself, and Tifa. That, he thought, if she even lets me get near her without biting.

He had the hunch that under the thick layer of bitchiness, she was nice. A genuine kind of nice. He wanted to say he understood her, that, yes, she had just moved and she was angry. But truth was, he didn't know, and he hated lying. He had enough lies going on; he didn't need a couple more useless ones added to the pile. He would try to establish truce with her after the clash, but if she refused he'd rest his case. Maybe the girl wasn't worth it in the end. Cloud sighed.

The guys were still just yelling. He knew it hadn't really begun yet. The friends were most likely fighting their way through the throng.

Last year, they had had a record: three people sent to the hospital, including the girl who had gotten involved. One of the guys had gotten stabbed and the other had ended up with a broken arm. Rules had to be followed. That was what he believed. How hard could it be to understand that any type of weapon -knives, guns, clubs- were forbidden? Can't break people's bones, can't kill anybody, can't choke people with the bandana, can't let the cops catch you, yadda-yadda. In his humble opinion, he thought it was elementary logic.

His gaze was drawn to the bleachers. Tifa was talking with a girl he didn't know. He had no doubts she was a raven; the cautious stance gave her away. Cloud felt a weight pressing him down to the ground; he didn't why know he felt responsible for this damned brunette, but the unwanted duty was beginning to tire him. She was left on the plaza to be eaten alive. Oh, that girl had fire and a terrific will to resist, but it'd never be completely enough to win against the big bad wolf. Had Reno done the right thing by offering her friendship? Maybe they should have just sent her to the ravens -much less complicated and much more convenient for everybody. He couldn't say if Zack was playing with her or seriously liked her. He'd go for the later, since Zack wasn't a wretched guy who made people miserable just because. But Zack had toyed with defenseless students. There had always been a reason behind the acts, but Cloud could never he approved of it. He was secretly glad that Aerith didn't advocate her boyfriend's choices, but she had done some things, too. And even she didn't do a lot to help Tifa.

But what could he do if she wouldn't even talk civilly with him? Perhaps his own attitude didn't help. He got the impression she had imagined the clash to be a terrible, bloody battle resulting in death, and he was partly to blame for that. Was it reasonable to find such a reaction funny? He didn't usually laugh at others' fears, but he couldn't resist the temptation she offered him. Really, Nibelheim wasn't that barbaric.

Cloud sobered as he caught Scarlet's lazy smile. Right behind Tifa. Wheels began to turn in his mind. Something nagged him. There was a hole in his memory, a missing piece to an important puzzle. He forced his mind to work but there was nothing to do. His eyes shifted to Tifa. As much as she tried to hide it, she was scared. It wasn't the first time Kadaj threatened somebody, and while they were often empty threats, people took them seriously.

Secretly, he hoped Kadaj or his brothers would be the ones getting tickets to the clinic. He wasn't the violent guy, or the anger-issues guy. Tifa just made him lose his temper because she was so much like Scarlet had been two -or was it three? He wasn't so sure anymore- years ago. Always pestering him, never letting go of the arguments, always finding new reasons to fight. They were so different, the comparison made him laugh, but it was the bitter truth. Tifa wasn't a real bitch, or so he liked to believe, and she made him angry because she couldn't keep her mouth shut. He had to admit she could be quite the drama queen, too, but he labelled this as a detail. Scarlet, on the other, was just a conniving little tramp who knew how to manipulate people's vulnerability to get what she wanted. Her endless pursuit to get into the elite and the disaster that his sophomore year had been had made him the perfect target. Cloud was quite happy, however, to say that Tifa was getting under his skin for being stubborn and annoying, not because she wanted popularity and respect.

He could feel a sudden disturbance behind him, making him want to peek behind his shoulder. The shove came before he could even budge his head, and Cloud found himself projected on one of the arguing guys. He stumbled, nearly lost his equilibrium. He was not given the time to recover. Somebody jumped on him, pushing him into another body, and Cloud suddenly saw stars. The punch had come so fast. Somebody's arms restrained him from behind, transforming him into a perfect, open target.

Another hit landed on his jaw, and Cloud felt nauseous at the taste of blood in his mouth. He knees wobbled under the impact. Damn, it hurt like a bitch. He opened his eyes in time to catch a flash of silver before all breath left him. His restrainer let him go, and Cloud had to fight the urge to double over and vomit. He gasped as he was tossed around, the lightheadedness that invaded him making him unable to defend himself. Finally, he started to regain his senses, and the tiny spots clouding his vision began to disappear.

The strike to his stomach had left him little strength, but he managed to dodge the next incoming blow. He always looked at whom he was fighting, and he realized it was a wolf. Probably someone who had unfinished business with him; the face was unknown to him, anyway. Cloud's fist collided with the guy's nose. He didn't lose his time looking at how the guy was fairing.

A strangled curse seized his attention, and Cloud turned around to face a struggling Elliott. He nearly sighed as he ran to his friend; here he had thought that for once the dude would stay out of trouble. The path to Elliott was surprisingly clear, but then again, it wasn't like he was far away. Cloud accelerated as his friend was forcefully pushed to the ground and his attacker's hands warped around his throat. Elliott was wrestling, trying his best not to get trampled on by other people. If there was one thing Cloud hated it was a dirty and unfair fight. It was already enough that the guy was breaking the rules by attempting to throttle Elliott; he also had to hold him down where he could get repeatedly trampled on. Cloud wasn't the first to get to Elliott. Wherever Elliott went, Jordan followed. Cloud had seen Jordan angry, and it hadn't been pretty. Now, the guy was downright enraged. A set of colourful words escaped Jordan's mouth as he smashed onto the guy, sending him sprawling on the earth. A distinctive cry of pain came from Cloud's right, and he whirled around to witness Elliott clinging to his leg. It didn't take a genius to figure out that someone had stepped on it. Cloud wished he had seen who had that. He swept the crowd with a furious glare as he hoisted Elliott to his feet.

It was amazing how previously unwanted interruptions could suddenly turn into a blessing, Cloud thought as he heard the wail of a police car. It took only a second for the crowd of students to separate. Elliott shifted away from him, seemingly able to run, and they both took off, heading toward the bleachers. Jordan fell in step with them quickly. Cloud glanced his way, immediately noticing the light in Jordan's gaze saying he had something important to say; they both slowed down a bit.

"Scarlet," Jordan said in between pants.

One word, but it was all Cloud needed. Of course. The hole in his memory, the missing link. She had been behind the girl who had gotten injured last year. She had also been behind Tifa only a few minutes ago.

She had fooled them once again, and he was going to make she wouldn't do it another time.

Cloud didn't stop to watch Tifa's bemused expression as he grabbed her wrist and obliged her to run. His car was parked in the grocery story adjacent to the soccer field, but they still had a way to go, and with everybody getting in their way… He just hoped Elliott could hang on until they got to his car. When the fence came into view, he nearly hauled Tifa on top of it. He then grabbed the other girl -was she the same who had been talking to Tifa just before?- and helped her go over the barrier.

He started climbing but stopped. He twisted his head to the side to watch the park, searching for one person. Zack was walking to his car. Walking. Cloud had half a mind to go over there, shake him until some logic entered his thick skull, and yell at him to stop being so sure of everything.

The feeling that swarmed over his mind as he landed on the other side of the fence and started running was undecipherable. He didn't have to worry about being caught by the cops. They would let him go the moment they saw his face. It was the same for Zack, or any member of the elite. But Cloud had always been unable to let his friends go alone. He knew that if they got caught and he was there, then all of them would get out fine.

Cloud started the car, not wanting to laugh as he heard Tifa say "Never again" because he could detect the serious tone lying under the nonchalance.

—

He had to resist the urge to slam the door as he exited Tifa's house.

Rosemary. He didn't know who she was but by the end of the night she would regret opening her damned mouth.

Cloud had thought -had honestly thought- people understood that some stuff was not to be said. His and Vincent's old friendship was one of them. Every single student at Nibelheim High had witnessed the ugly showdown, and if they hadn't seen it, they had heard all about it. He could still remember the way Vincent had tried to justify himself, how he hadn't even put up a fight as Cloud laid hit after hit on him, the burning sensation in his chest as betrayal, grief and fury blinded him. He had done the wrong thing that day, but it was only later that Cloud had learned of his mistake. He still experienced regret over the whole situation. It was too late to mend things, and that, he believed, was what pained him the most. After all, he had a secret to keep, and Cloud Strife was a man of reliance.

He tried to keep his mind quiet as he drove through the town. He had done too much thinking tonight and he felt totally worn down. He considered putting on some music to fill the silence as it unnerved him more than anything at the moment.

He turned the corner and spotted Jordan raising a hand to shield his eyes from the car's lights at it came to a stop in front of the curb. Cloud watched him jog, the black and green backpack bouncing behind him. He sighed inwardly. At least, he wouldn't get into any more trouble today.

"You've got it?" Cloud asked tiredly as his friend slid in beside him.

Jordan nodded, patting the bag resting on his lap.

"I can drop you off."

"You crazy? I'm not missing this."

Cloud had to bite down the smirk.

"Why? I'm just dropping a package."

"Right. Be glad I exist, bitch. You wouldn't have done it without me."

"Fucking right," Cloud muttered. "I'll pay you back."

Jordan shook his head dismissively. "Just fix my car."

The car went by the road leading to Zack's neighbourhood, heading east. Cloud turned onto a sinuous route, which opened on a small clearing. He switched the engine off.

"Catch," Jordan said.

Cloud turned in time to see the brown bag flying in his direction, and he brought his hands up to receive it. Then, just as he had always felt whenever he came in this clearing, repulsion took over him. But he had a reason, a goddamn good one, he told himself. A delusive peace settled over him, and he rubbed his cheek, hissing as he touched his bruise. He let the bag drop on the hood of his car, fidgeting as he fought his craving for nicotine. Cursing softly, he dug in his pocket, toying with the lighter and cancer stick pack.

"Go ahead. Surrender to darkness."

He didn't know he was waiting for the permission to smoke, but he gladly took a cigarette out. Cloud lighted it impatiently, relaxing the moment he put it to his mouth.

"I should tell you those will kill you, but I won't."

"Don't be ironic."

"Am not. What's stuck on you face?"

Cloud frowned. "Tifa put band-aids all over my face or what?"

"You're getting soft, Strife." Jordan grinned.

"What the fuck?"

"Chocobos? Really?"

"Stop the bullshit."

"Look in a mirror. You gotta love that girl. Chocobos…" He chuckled,

shaking his head.

"Whatever. Who was that girl?"

At this, Jordan let out a loud laugh. Cloud was tempted to scowl. It really seemed as if everybody was on some joke except for him.

"Elliott yields an undying love for her."

"That," Cloud droned, "is the proof of Tifa's evil nature."

"You're just jealous."

He snorted. "I'm the first one who can tell you about her evilness."

Cloud let the remaining of his cigarette fall to the ground, crushing the butt with the heel of his shoe. He took out a second one.

"Wait, wait, wait, man. I thought you were trying to quit."

"Me too," Cloud grumbled, taking out his lighter.

They both kept silent for a while, the only sounds being the rustling of the leaves and the boys' breathing. Cloud checked his watch. A little past eight. Time sure went by.

"I've been wondering," Jordan said.

"What?"

"Why you're doing it."

There it was, the part he had wanted to avoid.

"You know I'm not the one usually dealing this stuff."

"Yeah. But why?"

"Because I'm Zack's lapdog."

He didn't even need to look to know Jordan was rolling his eyes. Cloud exhaled, examining the smoke as it curled and twisted in the air.

"I'm just the delivery boy." He shrugged. "I don't deal."

"I know, Cloud. And I know you hate it."

Cloud was so grateful when he saw the headlights cutting through the woods he almost dropped to his knees and prayed. Jordan was right, but Cloud wasn't ready to admit it aloud.

Doors banged, and three guys walked over. A sneer curved Cloud's lips. He didn't only hate doing this; he also hated the clientele. He gave them a sharp nod for greeting.

"Gentlemen."

Grunts were his answer. Cloud grabbed the bag lying behind him.

"Your package." He threw it to the nearest guy, who caught it swiftly, just like Cloud had expected. Lovell was star of the opposing basketball team.

"I'll see you on the court, Strife?"

Nibelheim High against Nibelheim Private Academy. The eternal rivalry.

"I quit," Cloud replied casually.

Lovell raised an eyebrow in a mocking gesture. Cloud's fists clenched in his pockets.

"Wallace finally threw you out. About fucking time."

"Like I said, I chose to go. I quit."

"You're back to where you belong. Forced to do shady business to get some money. Quite lame."

Oh. Bastard thought he had him.

Cloud leaned in. He was short, especially compared to a 6'3'' guy, but he didn't back down. Slowly, in an exaggerated way he thought looked quite ridiculous, he blew smoke in Lovell's face.

"I'd say the lame one is the one paying tons for fucking steroids," he whispered. "He can't even throw a punch without the help of drugs. It's not enough he's already damn stupid, he wants to be the perfect 'brawns, no brains'. Ring a bell?" He added, resisting the envy to smile.

"Go fuck yourself," the guy seethed, shoving Cloud back.

"Gladly. Much better than fucking you."

"Alright." Jordan jumped between the two. "We're going."

Cloud backed to his car with a satisfied smile.

—

When the phone rang, Tifa's first reaction was to let it go to the voicemail. Huddled under her covers, she told herself she would not move today. She wanted to relax, she would. An hour later, it was her cell phone that let her know somebody was trying to reach her. She sighed, but didn't move.

She realized it was probably childish to hide.

But she didn't care.

Did she?

"Shut up, head, just shut up," she muttered through clenched teeth.

She wondered how the hell monks could meditate for hours. It was impossible for her mind to be blank. She had to think for her not to think, which completely ruined the intention. And that damn phone wouldn't stop ringing. Perhaps it'd be better if she unplugged it. Tifa groaned.

Finally rolling over to face her nightstand, she grabbed her phone, seeing she had two missed calls and three text messages. All from Aerith, except for one angry message, which came from Elliott. Although she had decided not to let the events at the clash invade her mind, she laughed.

_she thinks i'm stupid. my life is ruined._

As always, he was dramatizing the Phoebe issue, but it was so Elliott-ish she couldn't refrain the smile. She wouldn't, however, answer. She had firmly decided not to have contact with the outside world until Monday at school. If this was the only way she could pretend Nibelheim didn't exist, she was all for it.

She had been tempted to write in her diary as she would usually do, but right now she was repulsed by the thought of it. Writing would be acknowledging, and she wasn't ready yet. Maybe in a few days, or maybe tonight.

As much as Tifa wanted to relax, she found that time went by a little too slowly. It was only two, and she had another day before school started. She could read, but she didn't possess many books. TV was an option, if she had been a fan of it. She could always watch movies. Swinging her legs over her bed and down on the floor, Tifa walked to the upstairs lounge. It was really small, with dark walls and two old couches and their ancient television. She loved it more than the spacious salon downstairs. It was calmer, intimate. She felt as though she couldn't be bothered here.

Grazing the spine of the DVD cases with her finger, stopping here and there to contemplate seeing this one again, Tifa felt the tight control she held over her emotions slip away. She was suddenly tired, and the idea of doing anything fled her mind. Mechanically, her hand pulled on a DVD case she didn't recognize and her feet dragged themselves to the TV. She kneeled to insert the disc into the player, then got back up and down the stairs to get something to drink and eat. She hadn't eaten lunch yet.

She had forced herself to blank everything out, just to get some peace, but it only felt more stifling, more uncomfortable. She could accept or deny. Denial sounded good for now, but she realized it probably wasn't very healthy.

Tifa gave a start when the microwave's alarm went off. Popcorn and water in her hands, she walked back to the lounge.

Time to enjoy some unknown movie.

—

She wished she had laughed at the funny parts, if she had listened. Now, watching the ending scene, nothing on the screen made sense. She could guess it was a predictable movie, with repetitive dialogue that didn't leave one pondering over the words and a cliché plot. It didn't matter.

Glancing down at the notepad balanced on her lap, Tifa wondered if she was doing the right thing. Writing a step-by-step procedure only seemed natural to her, as well as jotting down everything she knew. About Nibelheim, the clash, Vincent, Cloud, the elite. A summary, she could call it. She had always been a visual person, going for the actions, not the words.

_To figure out:_

Tifa traced several bold lines under the title until they merged together as she thought how to begin. The people? Gangs?

_Why there are gangs (not the elite)._

_Why the clash (A told me it's cause of the party but that can't be all)._

_Why the elite (teachers don't go against them; Shinra?)_

She paused here. There was more to say, but it'd be enough for this part.

_Aerith: can't be into something shady (?)_

_Zack: obviously. But what?_

_Yuffie: arrived last year. Elite formed last year?_

_Reno: weird! Why would he want to be my friend?_

_Vincent: linked to Cloud. Perhaps the elite is why they aren't talking (traitor thing?)._

_Scarlet: BITCH_

_Cid: doesn't seem affected by the elite. But he's Cid._

_Cloud:_

Tifa froze. What was she supposed to write about him?

_Cloud: used to be friends with V. Mother's suicide cause of him (?). Is very sensible about Vincent and him. Weird guy. Hates Kadaj & co. Owes money to someone linked to Kadaj (what?)._

She put her pen down in frustration. She had discovered nothing so far. All she had was a jumbled mess of information she already knew. But maybe that was what she need, as she now felt much more composed than an hour ago. She turned the page, drawing spirals around the margin. She settled against the couch's arms so she would be more comfortable in her thinking.

To her, it was very evident that Cloud was a key to the mystery. His secrets were most interesting, and whether she wanted it or not, she was kind of fascinated with him, simply because he was undecipherable. She could either make him her friend, or let things between them as they were, tense and fragile.

_Why Cloud should be my friend_

She let a tiny smile curl her lips. Did that sound too obnoxious?

_PROS_

_He's a good guy (weird, but good)_

_He seems loyal (?)_

_Could help me discover stuff_

_Hates Scarlet (!)_

She stopped, as she didn't know what else she could write. As much as she wanted to see him under a new light, they had spent their time arguing, not chatting about the weather.

_CONS_

_Like I said, weird (in this shadowy way)_

_A bit too secretive_

_Owes money for some obscure reason he won't tell_

_Short temper (my fault?)_

_Smart-ass_

She hesitated as she came to the next point, wondering if it was true, and if she should write it down.

_Sometimes he scares me_

There. Tifa let out a breath, closing her eyes. She had the notion it was ridiculous to be so stressed over four words, but she was. After all, he _did _scare her sometimes. At the party, last night. Just the way he reacted at some things; too intense, too… she couldn't put her finger on it. His secretive nature was part of it. She often was under the impression he carried a secret that was too heavy for him. She could be wrong as well as she could be right, but she couldn't decide which conclusion might reassure her.

This time, the ringing was a grateful distraction.

Tifa still didn't pick up the phone after glancing at the caller ID -_AERITH_- (would the girl ever back down?). As tranquil as she was, she wasn't ready for any confrontation.

It didn't take long for Aerith's soft voice to fill up the room as she left a message.

"_I've been trying to call all day so call me back as soon as you get this, alright? I wanted you to come over tomorrow, but you don't seem to be here… Tifa? Pick up, please. I'm worried."_

The moment the message ended, Tifa's gaze strayed from the phone. She couldn't leave this on the machine. She didn't want her father to listen to it tonight when he came back -or was it tomorrow? Or Monday? Deposing notepad and pen on the table, she deleted the message. Should she call back? She certainly didn't feel like it, but leaving people hanging like that wasn't her style.

They would talk. Later.

—

Her Dad was sitting at the table eating breakfast when she came in the kitchen. Tifa headed for the refrigerator, mildly surprised at his presence. She had been expecting him, but he usually arrived at reasonable hours. Early enough that she could hear sigh and walking to his room with his traditional heavy steps, pausing in front of hers, opening the door to see if she was there and tell her sweet dreams.

"'morning," she mumbled, putting two slices of bread in the toaster.

"Good morning," he answered back, eyes not leaving the newspaper.

Tifa observed him as she waited for her toasts. He was the most dressed down she had ever seen in years, wearing a clean pair of jeans and a blue button-up shirt. Hell, he had_ slippers_ on.

She took a sip of her orange juice. "What's up with the attire?"

Her dad looked up, startled. A nice half-smile settled on his lips, making his eyes wrinkle. "I'm not working."

Here, she thought she would drop her glass. He obviously winced.

"Sorry."

He chuckled softly -not sad, but amused.

"I know it's strange. Even for me. My boss insisted I take a break. Actually,"-he coughed-"he said I might transfer departments. So I can be home more often."

Tifa nodded, turning around to take care of her toasts. She wasn't sure how she felt about this. She was used to him always working, never being there. Would this change their relationship? She didn't love him; she knew that much. Was she pleased with the way things were between them? Not so much, she mused as she ate her breakfast, but enough not to change them. She could tell the move to Nibelheim had affected her father more than he'd let on. Why else would he be around more?

He coughed again, drawing her attention. She swallowed at his uneasy look. They weren't about to have a heart-to-heart, were they?

"I'm aware you saw…all the bills."

Tifa couldn't move. The fact that she knew he went to hotel bars and drank lots of alcohol was supposed to be a secret. Perhaps she didn't much of him, but the idea that he was an alcoholic had depressed her for a couple of days, never thinking that her dad would sink so low. Oh, he was never drunk in the house and he had never hurt her. But she hated talking about fathers with other people. _My father works in some computer/technology company. And he's a secret alcoholic._

"I haven't touched alcohol since he came here."

Oh, Gaia. He was looking at her with hope in his eyes, hope for her approval. Why did he have to do that? If he hadn't wanted her to know, he shouldn't have paid by credit card.

"That's great," she croaked.

She meant it. But at the same time, she didn't really care. She wasn't supposed to know, wasn't supposed to look at the opened bill on the table, wasn't supposed to think about it.

"It's really great," she said anew, smiling.

It was an odd feeling that attacked her when he shyly smiled back.

A silent fifteen minutes later, she was about to depart for school when she thought about the unused car in the driveway. She had her license but had never used it. Taking the car was so much better than that damn public bus with its moody driver who never spoke a word. She believed he was a mute.

"Dad? Can I take the car?"

"Sure. Have a nice day."

She waved him off, taking the keys from the bowl that sat on the hall's table. The car wasn't old, but it wasn't new. It didn't matter how much money he made, Tifa's father had kept the same car since she was eleven. She felt nervous and excited as she slid into the driver's seat. She would finally drive a car, and she giggled at herself for being so thrilled.

The ride to school was short, and soon she was out of the car and strolling toward the main building. Tifa crossed her arms over her chest, her backpack swinging behind her. She tried not to make eye contact with people, but she had the feeling they were all staring at her. One careful glance around told her she was just being paranoid. Students were carelessly mingling with each other, ignoring the bruises marring some guys' features. Tifa absentmindedly searched for someone she knew, only recognizing unknown faces.

Today, she would separate herself a little from the elite, so she could gather her thoughts. She had already made up her mind: she was going to accept Nibelheim and its crazy traditions, and she was going to keep being friends with the elite, as long as they let her keep her personal space. And that was why she needed today to be her own.

The sight of Vincent reading a book on the entryway steps made her freeze in her tracks. It felt like an ambush; he knew she had to climb up the steps to enter the school, so he decided to wait for her at the place she couldn't escape. She started to walk toward the entrance, constantly spying his every move from the corner of her eyes. He never budged, and his eyes never left his book. She saw him turn pages, frown at some words. It was like he was unaware of all the students around him. Unaware of her presence. Perhaps he wasn't there for her. Maybe he just liked to read on the steps. She found such a coincidence highly unlikely. She had never witnessed him reading outside.

Dimly, she wondered when she had stopped walking. The courtyard was quickly emptying, and Tifa almost stumbled as somebody smashed into her. She guessed the bell was about to ring, or had already rung. When she looked up, nobody was sitting on the stairs.

She let out a nervous giggle. She was plain stupid, always imagining everything gravitated around her arrival in this town.

Not losing any more time, she jogged the remaining distance separating her from the open doors and slipped inside, immediately losing herself in the crowd. It was a pain to get to her locker. She shoved some books in her bag, mentally repeating her morning schedule to distract her from the gross couple swapping saliva on her left. They weren't near enough to directly hinder her, but it was annoying nonetheless. PDA had never been her favourite thing to watch, especially at 8AM.

Not even bothering to muster the energy to plaster a fake smile on her face, Tifa headed for her first class of the day, noticing the corridors were nearly empty. Fitzpatrick's class was on the other side of the building, and Tifa was too focused on being late again to notice the hushed whispers coming from the nearest classroom as she passed by.

An arm shot out behind the door, jerking her into the darkened room. It was so sudden Tifa didn't have to think about yelping out in surprise. The door crashed shut behind her.

**_—  
_**

**__**

**A/N:** I hope Cloud's POV cleared things up a bit about the clash :)

love:

**Cammy, BananaPeaceMonkey, Unknown, katong0032, ClotiNotCleris, 7777, SugarHoney91, pangpond, elebelly, sam, xv-Luna-xv, Rend, cerberus angel, -x, Moonlightlatte, Marisa, blob, cloudlover2989, Fuck Yeah, .slideshow., BlueWings92, blue ashes89, xOx-Just-Like-Yesterday-xOx, Eva Von Dee, demonegg, 3, , lili125, TheMagicalTapeworm, NamieAndGackt4Ever, Sheiky, ..., & Samus117.**

FAQ!

_**Q: When are Cloud and Tifa going to get together?**_

_A: _Um... :)


	13. souvenir, hair, and running

**Chapter 13 : **_souvenir, hair, and running_

**___—_  
**

_The door slammed and the shout that followed echoed in her head. She could feel it bouncing around in her skull. She rocked back and forth on her knees, covering her ears in hope of becoming deaf, and murmuring a futile prayer -please, please, please- she wished would be heard._

_There was a voice, much more loud than the other, that made her close her eyes. It didn't sound like usual. It was high-pitched, violent, sharp, nasty; it wasn't sweet and calm anymore, and the usual indifference was not there._

_Another door slammed. This time the room was quieter, and would be altogether silent if it wasn't for the furious pacing. She still did not dare to move away from her secret spot, because who knew who left and who stayed. Yes, the restless steps were heavy, but both were angry, and you're never yourself when you're angry._

_She never tried to eavesdrop, but with the loud voice -only one was booming- it was hard not to._

"_You're such a bastard!"_

"_It's none of your business!"_

"_I'm stuck here all day! You left me alone first!"_

"_Would it kill you to be nice? And I'm not yelling, goddamn it!"_

_What she needs is a distraction._

"_One, two, three, four, five, six, seven..."_

_After all, there isn't much to do in a bedroom closet._

—

It was clear to Tifa that all Nibelheim students had a flair for dramatics. Perhaps the boring routines they lived through every day needed to be spiced up a little?

"I swear, if I had known calling you back was that urgent, I would have."

"Not the point," Yuffie chimed in.

There was a silence, and the atmosphere was filled with a sudden awkwardness that made Tifa uncomfortable. It certainly wasn't Aerith's and Yuffie's overreaction that made her nervous, but her very own reaction. Would she yell? Would she get fed up? She highly doubted something productive or even remotely worthwhile would come from of this improvised meeting. There was nothing to do but to keep calm and respectful.

"Girls, I'm going to be late," Tifa said, sliding down from the desk she was seated on.

"I'm serious here. I was just worried."

"I'm sure. But can we talk about all this later? I honestly have to go to class."

"You know it doesn't matter."

Tifa stopped in her tracks, her hand on the doorknob. What answer was the good one?

"It matters to me, Aerith. I thought it was pretty obvious."

She slipped out of the room before her friends could reply, leaving the door to shut noisily behind her. Maybe that had been too bold. But she couldn't always follow the flock and agree with everything the elite said just so they wouldn't turn against her. So much had changed since she had moved, but she wouldn't be lying if she said she wouldn't care if they made some sort of social outcast and banished her to the ravens. In fact, she realized, she wouldn't mind at all. But why throw away what you gained? She wasn't foolish enough to dismiss any friendship she might have made thus far.

It was a slow walk to her English class. They were having their first oral presentation of the year, and Tifa knew she would interrupt the team presenting today by coming in late. Once she was in front of the door, she stood staring at the class through the small window. The team was made up of three guys and one girl she didn't know. They all seemed nervous but bored, save for one guy who was nearly bouncing on his toes and grinning from ear to ear. He was talking animatedly, waving his hands around to illustrate what he was saying. Unlike his teammates he wasn't clutching a paper with what Tifa guessed was their text.

It surprised Tifa that she was curious to listen to what made this guy so passionate. She didn't want to disturb him though, as she believed it would be a shame to make him lose his train of thoughts. Not long after, another guy took over, and Tifa used the transition to enter the room. Fitzpatrick didn't say anything but his glower didn't give her the urge to snicker. She took the nearest seat, under the window, and quietly laid her backpack on the desk. Her eyes felt heavy and she had to fight the itch to sleep. As she tuned out one of the guys talking about the cultural revolution that had occurred over fifty years ago, Tifa stared at the bouncy guy. There was still a faint smile lingering on his lips and in his eyes. There was an undeniable… how could she say? Cheerfulness, maybe. It didn't matter; he was the first person that looked honestly comfortable.

At this thought Tifa sat upright in her chair. She felt like shouting "Exactly" and pumping her fist in the air, but only whispered, "yes" under her breath. She just needed to be comfortable. It wasn't about accepting or being accepted; it was about feeling at ease where she was. To find the perfect comfort zone she only had to make people see her point: if she wanted to be friends with whomever she desired, then she would be.

Feeling suddenly lighter than she had since her first day at Nibelheim High, Tifa crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. She had finally figured it out.

—

The Mechanics classroom was almost empty when Tifa stepped inside; only a couple of students were standing on the other side of the room. Either Highwind was absent or he had chosen this day to bring them to the auto-shop. She didn't bother informing the other guys of her thoughts as she exited the class and walked down the hallway. To her despair, she knew the way to the auto-shop by heart. It didn't take long before she reached the place and was greeted by a grin from Reno and a frown from Cid. Most of the students were dispersed around the room in groups of two or three. It seemed as though the instructions had already been given. Tifa didn't make any comment about how she should have known about the auto-shop when Cid glared at her and pointed at a lonely guy. Sighing, she strolled toward him.

"Hey."

The guy raised his head in surprise at her voice, nearly banging it against the open door. This made Tifa smile. He was blushing and avoiding her eyes; his greeting was mumbled. He wasn't really tall and overweight, with a bulky build.

"What's your name?"

He started to say something, cleared his throat, and finally answered, "Wedge."

Tifa nodded, smiling. "I'm Tifa. Nice to meet you."

"Yeah. You too."

She chuckled at his flustered state, and he only blushed more.

"So," she drawled, "what do we have to do?"

Wedge turned to the car, noticeably happy to be back to a subject that didn't make him nervous. He produced a sheet where Highwind had printed the instructions for the project, and Tifa realized it would extend to a period of several weeks. It wasn't enough to make her work after school, she would now have to work even more hours for this assignment.

"This is absolutely awesome."

"Yeah."

"Really, he's such a dick, thinking we only have this to do."

"Yeah."

"It'll take us hours."

"Then I suggest you get to work immediately, Lockheart," Highwind yelled.

Tifa gave a start, whirling around to face the laughing students. She hadn't known she had been talking so loudly; enough so that Cid would hear her across the room. She just glowered at him, which made him snicker.

"I don't know if I hate him or like him," she mused aloud.

Wedge gave a nervous laugh, holding out his hand. Tifa glanced at it, confused.

"What?"

"The sheet, please?"

"Oh! Oh, yeah, just take it. Here."

He murmured a thank you, to which Tifa only nodded. She had skimmed the instructions and had barely understood a word.

"Do you get what we have to do?"

Her partner was squinting at the paper, but shook his head no.

"Peachy."

"But I think we can ask his assistant to help us," added Wedge.

Tifa hopped on the car's hood, watching out for said assistant. "Who is he? Or her?"

"Um, I think it's Cloud Strife."

The name made Tifa freeze.

"Then we'll get by without help," she stated firmly.

_I can't see him._ She still continued to search for him, not spotting his traditional blonde spikes.

"Why is he Cid's assistant?" She asked, finally moving her gaze to Wedge. He was looking at her with something akin to amusement in his brown eyes.

"I think it's because he took the course too many times. Why don't you want his help?"

Tifa looked down at her sneaker-clad feet, swinging her legs, then stopping, then swinging them again. Why, indeed.

"Let's say it'd be awkward," she replied vaguely, waving her hand as if to dismiss the conversation.

"Sure." Wedge eyed her warily for a second, then moved to stand besides her. He coughed one, two, three times. Nervous guy, Tifa thought. "I think we need to check something under the hood first."

Tifa jumped down her spot, rubbing her hands together. It didn't matter if she couldn't figure out what to do; as long as she got the work done it'd be fine.

—

When the bell rang Tifa hurried out of the door so Reno wouldn't think about approaching her. She went straight to her locker and got an apple out of a bag, as well as a water bottle, put the books she would need for the afternoon into her backpack, and headed for the library. She strangely felt like reading today, but hadn't brought a book with her. She pursed her lips in thought as she entered the school library. She wondered what they would have, and what she should read. Mystery novels were her favourites, but she had read so much recently and she wanted some change.

It wasn't long before Tifa discovered the poor book selection they had. She went over to an unoccupied table and took out her Science homework. She didn't really appreciate any kind of Science and usually didn't bother with the homework, but she was bored and had nothing better to do at the moment. She enjoyed the quietness of the library and didn't feel like suffering through the elite's endless questions. Oh, she could tell Zack would probably leave her alone and take her side; she knew him enough to say that. Tifa knew Aerith was only worried; it didn't mean, however, that she needed to be her babysitter.

About twenty minutes before the lunch period ended, Tifa heard the door of the room open for the first time since she had come in. Thinking it wouldn't be someone she knew, Tifa barely glanced at the entrance, only to do a double take.

"No way," she groaned.

Yuffie just smiled and waved her hand, as if she had heard Tifa. The young sophomore sauntered to her table, taking the seat across Tifa.

"Hi!"

"This is a library, you know," Tifa said dully, her eyes not darting from her homework.

"So?"

"Never mind."

If Tifa had been expecting quietness, she quickly realized that silence didn't fit in Yuffie's vocabulary. The girl wasn't overly loud, but Tifa hadn't come to the library to find noise.

"So I decided to come looking for you."

"Uh."

"Aerith had a meeting and I was completely bored with the guys."

"Meeting for what?"

"Cheerleading."

"No kidding."

"She wants to quit, though. She should. I hate most of these girls."

With a sigh, Tifa put down her pencil and raised her eyes. Yuffie was staring at her cell phone with an absent grin lighting her features. When she saw she finally had Tifa's attention, the girl closed her phone and twisted around in her seat to fully face her.

"Why? They're bitches?"

Yuffie shrugged. "Not really. Some are. They're fun to annoy." She grinned. "A few count calories."

They both let out a hushed chuckle, not wanting to bring the librarian's fury on themselves.

"It was better when Ms. Crescent had library duty."

Tifa's eyebrow rose. "I thought she was a teacher."

"She is. But she didn't take the teacher's job when they gave it to her. She took the library instead."

"Weird."

"I know! I never really asked Zack about it. If anybody knows anything, it's him."

Tifa let her eyes drift past her friend's shoulder. But she only nodded, trying to look casual.

When the quiet stretched for over five minutes, Yuffie asked her to come to the cafeteria to eat, and Tifa almost said yes. It truly was lonely in the library, especially after having talked with someone as energetic as Yuffie. Tifa was left with her homework after a short, almost awkward chat with her friend. The moment Yuffie was out of sight Tifa sighed and cursed her stubbornness.

The remaining time until the next period went by quickly. Tifa was more than dreading her Science class. His reaction would probably be positive, but she was conscious that it could as well be dismissive. She didn't know what she'd do if he gave her the cold shoulder. Deciding that the best way to get the confrontation over with was an early start, Tifa exited the library before the first bell rang. The more she stayed hidden, the more she would find excuses to avoid him.

The door was locked when she arrived, but the teacher was inside, lecturing a student. She could see what was written on the board, and it was stuff her class had already gone through, at least two weeks ago. Either the guy had difficulties or he had missed at lot of school. A glance at her cell phone let Tifa know that the course would start in five minutes. She dumped her bag at her feet and leaned back against the wall, right beside the door. Now she just had more time to think about excuses.

She was mostly amused and somewhat disconcerted to notice that she was fidgeting. It seemed impossible not to move; she flipped her cell phone open fourteen times in a row before realizing what she what doing, then drummed her fingers on her thigh. She, a girl who was rarely nervous in these type of situation -mainly because she tended to steer clear from them-, found the concept slightly exasperating.

Tuning out unwanted thoughts proved more difficult than she had expected, but by the time Hojo opened the door to his classroom and the students shuffled to their assigned seats, Tifa had managed to push aside all undesired feelings and regain a relaxed appearance. Maybe she did look slightly stiff. Perhaps the fact that her eyes constantly wandered to the door gave her feelings away. It definitely wasn't so easy to tell herself that nobody in the room cared -because, really, nobody actually did give a damn. It was tough convincing herself that it was perfectly normal to be edgy when you believe you're about to perhaps lose your friends.

_There I go again_. Who ever said that Vincent would hate her? No one; no one but herself. _I'm just freaking myself out. That's all I've been doing._

When the class started and he still hadn't shown up, Tifa groaned and hid her face in her arms. It was the first time since the beginning of the year that she openly ignored Hojo and didn't bother to take notes. She could tell, when she glanced up, that it didn't please the teacher. It wouldn't have been such a great deal if Hojo didn't give her the creeps. Without energy, Tifa took out notebook and pen from her bag, made an effort to look concentrated, and returned to her worrying.

There was another door in the room that Tifa hadn't thought of. Since it was rarely used and hidden behind a shelf in the back, most students didn't think about entering through it. Vincent obviously did, because when she glanced at the clock on her right, he was sitting on the stool next to her. Looking perfectly bored. And staring at her.

Like she always did when she was taken off guard, Tifa sucked in a breath and clenched her fists. He didn't seem any different than his normal self. Not angry, amused, sad, disgusted, or whatever else she had imagined. She let her eyes roam over his face another time, as if to reassure herself.

"Oh, my God."

She raised her hand, as if to reach for him, but let it fall on the desk before touching him.

"Your hair."

Vincent sighed, fingering the short strands that barely brushed the collar of his button-up shirt.

"My mom made me do it. Actually, she just did it," he answered. He frowned in obvious distaste. "She just-" He stopped, chuckled throatily and made a snapping gesture in front of his face. "I went to the hairdresser yesterday."

Tifa was left momentarily speechless. It was true that Vincent hair had been long, past his shoulders, but she hadn't seen a reason to cut since he clearly wanted it so long.

"Wow. It changes you, I guess." She had already taken notice of Vincent's good looks, but the short hair framed his face and highlighted his sharp features. If Vincent had been more like Jessie, Tifa would have believed that he'd be displeased by the haircut because he'd be more exposed to the world -she had seen Jessie hide behind her thick curtain of waves several times. But he just appeared... resigned.

"It's not the first time, is it?"

"Third."

Tifa nearly flinched. And he let her do this to him? It was apparent that he hated his new cut. "You let her?"

"She's my mom," came the monotonous answer accompanied by a shrug.

At the front of the class, Hojo coughed loudly several times and stared at them. Tifa noticed some students were looking over their shoulders to see what's going on, and the sight of Vincent and her talking didn't even get a reaction out of them; they turned back in their seats to watch the teacher, who had given up making everybody listen. It wasn't the first time that Hojo told them to learn the subject by themselves because he was "tired of talking to thin air and had much better things to do."

Her previous conversation with Vincent having evacuated some of the stress out of her body, she felt ready to present her apologies. But before she could make a sound Vincent stopped her.

"You're forgiven. No problem."

This made Tifa smile hesitantly. Was it so easy? She didn't have any difficulties granting forgiveness to someone, but she knew that it wasn't the case for everybody. And she hadn't known Vincent for long. Once again, he beat her to the punch.

"You freaked out," he said simply.

She couldn't believe it was enough, but she had gotten what she wanted and there was no need to jeopardize her friendship with him.

"That was easy," Tifa stated. She crossed her arms over her chest and whirled around in her chair to face him.

"I wish it could be like that with everybody, Tifa."

The moment he said this she knew he hadn't really meant to. He didn't add anything and his eyes shifted to his shoes. His torn-up, without-laces shoes. Maybe she could buy him nice sneakers for his birthday.

Around Cloud she experienced a need to ask questions but kept her mouth shut since she knew she wouldn't get a word out of him. But with Vincent... She doubted he wouldn't answer her. Or at least he would give her some hint.

"What happened between you and Cloud?"

She did her best to make her tone sound gentle, soft; it was a whisper at most. It wasn't so hard to hide the curiosity and excitement, she realized. So she had come to care what had occurred. It was weird; before Nibelheim other people's business had never really mattered to her.

Strangely, his response disappointed her. Even if it would probably facilitate things for her.

"I knew you would ask me that." And she could tell he wasn't talking about a gut feeling. She had but one guess as to who it was. Did Cloud and Vincent actually talked more than they let on?

"The question has been written all over your face for a while now." He sniggered. "And perhaps Jordan told me."

_Cloud warned Jordan who warned you; that's what you mean._

Tifa stayed silent. It was almost stupid how she was afraid that if she said a single word he wouldn't give her the answers she wanted.

"And I'll tell you." She could feel her eyes glowing, and he allowed himself a small smile that looked more like a grimace. "But not today. And certainly not here."

She moaned in her palms, glaring at him through her fingers. "That's torture." It came out as mumble because of her hands, but Vincent clearly understood her.

"You can wait a few more days at least. You've waited more than a month. And by the way, how are things between you and Cloud?" Her glare intensified and she removed her hands from her face.

"Peachy," she hissed.

"Trouble in paradise?"

"There is no paradise, but there is always trouble."

He raked his left through his hair, toying with the short strands again, as if he was getting used to them. He cocked his head to the side, and his puzzled eyes drifted over her shoulders.

"I don't get it." He other hand came to rest on the surface of his desk. After a silence, his gazes met hers and she could discern his seriousness. "You want to be his friend, right?"

Tifa knew there was no need to deny something with Vincent. He would find out. So she nodded.

"Then why not make peace with him?"

She sighed. One glance at the clock told her there were hardly five minutes left. Thank God.

"He kinda scares me." Without looking at him she started to gather her things, putting them neatly in her bag, if only to win some time. "I mean, not him, just..." she trailed off, not finding words.

"Everything else?" He finished tentatively.

"Yeah." She passed a hand over face. "If you had come to French I would have told you," she drawled.

Her attempt at changing the topic failed miserably when he rolled his eyes and continued. "Don't be. Afraid. That's useless. He's not the one who'll hurt you."

His last comment picked her interest.

"What do you mean?"

Vincent shrugged at the same the bell rang. What timing.

"He's not a bad guy." He got up on his feet, but Tifa gripped his arm before he could walk away.

"He's too secretive."

"That makes him a bad person? And believe me, Tifa, he's got his reasons. And they're good. Damn good. Did you think about that?" She wondered if it was supposed to be accusatory.

"Yeah, I did. But nobody will tell me anything and it's annoying, Vince. Extremely. Everybody has these goddamn secrets and talking with these mysterious tones around me. It's just making me hate everyone." She squeezed his arm. "I want to be his friend. Even if I was a bitch he did some good things for me and I know he's not a bad guy. But if he won't tell me anything I'll go crazy."

She had been about to add something, but Vincent yanked her out of her seat. Her grip on him didn't loosen as she landed on her feet, stumbling a little. "What the-"

"We'll be late," he murmured, dragging her out of the classroom. She finally let go of him to glance behind her, and to her horror she caught a flash of spiky blond hair.

"He has science _after_ us?" She faltered. "I didn't want _him_ to hear that!"

They stopped walking near the girl's locker room, and Tifa leaned against the wall.

"I swear I didn't see him."

"I know."

"Rejoice; we didn't mention his name."

"It doesn't take a fucking genius to figure it out."

"Unfortunately."

"Perhaps he didn't hear a thing."

"He was staring at us."

"Damn."

"Sorry."

She waved as if to dismiss the apology. "It's okay."

"You sure?"

"No."

"That's what I thought. But I gotta go."

"Oh, shit. I have gym."

"Later, then."

Tifa grunted a goodbye. As soon as Vincent disappeared around the corner, she entered the locker room. It was just about empty. Two girls were changing in a corner, whispering and giggling. Tifa ignored them, and they didn't spot her. She dropped her bag in front of the mirror and opened the faucet, letting cold water stream over her hands.

_"I heard he had a _heart_ attack."_

_"I don't believe that. He was _eighteen_, honey. You just don't die from a heart attack at eighteen."_

She watched as the girls chatted and changed, then went to stare at her own reflection. She looked dull, weary, irritated even. Her hair framed her face in a way that annoyed her-she definitely needed a haircut, she thought- but she didn't want to brush away the dark locks. She had been washing her hands and looking at the mirror for over two minutes, a fact she wasn't certain the other girls had noticed. No spotlight for her.

_"I think I have a shot with him this year."_

_"Be serious, Alisha. The guy's more frigid than a virgin."_

She finally removed her hands from under the water. She swept her wet fingers in her hair, not caring about the moistness. The damp locks clung to the side of her face and dripped on the counter. Her hair was naturally straight so she didn't have to worry about it curling during the day.

"_He's elite, Ali."_

"_Who cares? Ravens tend to date wolves."_

She stopped all movements at those words. Elite, ravens, wolves…

What the hell was she doing here anyway? The second bell had sounded a while ago, maybe while she was still in the hallway with Vincent.

She abruptly turned around, aiming to change into her gym clothes, but the surprised girls recognized her. One smiled -she couldn't remember her name- while the other -Alisha- stared at her with wide eyes.

"Tifa, I didn't see you there."

Tifa nodded, not having the energy to give them a false smile. She put on her shirt and shorts with the Nibelheim High insignia -gym clothes were furnished by the school, much to Tifa's displeasure. As she tied her hair in a high ponytail, she tried to remember where she had heard the name Alisha. She knew the girl because Aerith (or maybe Yuffie) had pointed her for apparently being very unreliable. Otherwise, who else had told her about this Alisha girl...

_"He's elite, Ali."_

It took a good deal of restraint to contain the hysterical laughter that threatened to explode from her. She was the girl who had been too shy to ask Tifa if she and Cloud were dating. Today really was a horrible day.

"Hey, Alisha?" Tifa called out as she stood next to the gym's doors.

The girl -she couldn't be older than 16- raised her wide eyes to Tifa, startled. "Yes?"

"He's not _that_ frigid." Then she winked and strolled out. A surprised gasp and an outrageous remark followed her as Tifa entered the gymnasium ten minutes after the bell. The students were running laps around the room and the teacher -a three months pregnant woman named Mrs. Fern who was about the leave the school in two weeks- was yelling at them to go faster. Wordlessly, Tifa joined the throng of runners

_—_

**A/N : **so yeah. It's been a while. I don't really have an excuse, except for school, life, school, life, yadda-yadda. Usual one.

From now on the story will be more action-oriented, at least for a while. So Tifa's endless reflections are taking a break.

lovelies :

**Sheiky, cloudlover2989, SugarHoney91, , demonegg, BlueWings92, BananaPeaceMonkeyKarmi, elebelly, , vx-Luna-xv, MsRainey, Marisa, pangpond, JulietaSurvived, magiccupcakes21, .slideshow., starySymphony, Cammy, Heloeyes, ClotiNotCleris, Cobaltcyrus, darkangel8694, **& **nandy48.**

FAQ!

_Too tired. I'll answer questions next chapter._


	14. blood I, homework, and questions

**Chapter 14: **_blood, homework, and questions  
_

—

**A/N: **No, it's not a miracle. Warning: there's way too much dialogue in this chapter.

—

_There was a slight anticipation building within him as he waited for the door to open-a pain in his chest and the exaggerated beating of his heart. His eyes became suddenly dry when he heard the first footsteps, and they flicked to his shoes when her voice was heard._

"_What are you doing here so early in the morning?"_

_If she didn't know, it was obviously because she was still fighting with her sister. He looked at her irritated face. His gaze drifted behind her shoulder._

"_Sorry Miss Crescent. I thought your sister would have told you. I'm picking her up so we can finish our project."_

_Was it normal to be proud that his voice didn't waver?_

_Miss Crescent sighed as she moved away from the door, her way of telling him to come in. It felt so different, being invited into this house by her, and not by her sister._

"_Shelke is being a brat again. I tried to talk to her yesterday when I got home, but she wouldn't answer me. She's trying to make me mad. Oh, and she's not awake; do you mind waking her up?"_

"_No, it's fine," he said, already climbing up the stairs. He would bet everything he owned that his face was red._

_If he remembered well, Shelke's room was the last on the left, the one at the complete end of the hall. He knocked on the door first, then opened it a little and peeked into the room. It was in even more of a mess than last night._

"_Shelke? I'm coming in, okay?"_

_The lack of answer told him she was still sleeping. He took a step inside, and a strange, sour smell was the first thing he noticed._

"_Come on. We gotta work on the presentation. Where's the camera…found it."_

_It was in the same place he had left it._

"_Eh, no more battery left… Should have charged it, Shelke," he added loudly as he removed the cassette._

_He took a crumpled brown envelope from his pocket, and put the cassette inside; he opened his backpack and dumped the envelope in it. That girl wouldn't stir, no matter how much noise he made._

"_Shelke, wake up," he said, approaching the bed._

_Something was weird about the way she was sleeping. It was too uncomfortable._

"_Shelke?"_

_His heart was beating furiously again. It was different this time, somehow more painful. He didn't want to see Shelke's face like he had wanted to see Miss Crescent's face behind the door. Would it even be her?_

_He drew back the cover. All he could see at first was red; red covering Shelke's body, the bed sheets, the pillow. Without realizing it he touched her shoulder, then her neck, then her face, and then his hands had also become red, and for some reason he start running-running away._

"_Miss Crescent! Miss!" He forced himself to shout because that way it would warn her. But she didn't hear him until he reached the base of the stairs. Maybe he hadn't yelled loudly enough._

"_Miss Crescent… Lucrecia…"_

_She finally came out of the kitchen, a puzzled expression in her eyes; they widened at the sight of him._

"_What…?"_

"_Lucrecia…there was… Shelke…she's not breathing…there was blood…and…"_

_He became aware, as he was talking, that he was panting, and also that he was talking alone. There was a broken mug on the floor, coffee spreading around it, just like-_

"_Blood. My hands… wash them…"_

_He nearly ran for the kitchen sink. He wasn't startled when Lucrecia's cry of horror echoed through the house; he only continued to wash his hands, even though they were already clean._

_He barely noticed Lucrecia coming downstairs and screaming at him. She was blaming him ("You were the last one to see her!"). Somewhere in his mind it registered that, no, he hadn't been the last one._

"_No, yes, I mean… Lucrecia-Miss Crescent, you heard her on the phone… She told me goodbye. She was angry at you…she…"_

_He sounded calm. His breathing had gone back to normal. He was still leaning against the counter, and the water was still running, all traces of blood washed off. _

_Lucrecia was sitting at the table, not sobbing; her tears were silent. She looked at him as if he wasn't there._

"_I remember…"_

_She got up, reaching for the phone. "Get out."_

"_Miss-"_

"_Just leave." There was no anger in her voice. _

_He stumbled for the front door (when did his legs become so weak?), and bumped into a wall corner. _

_He could hear her sobs from the kitchen, and he almost turned around. _

_He walked away. _

—

The school was strangely eerie when it was empty. Or almost empty. There were still a couple of students walking in the hallways, and several others stayed for extracurricular activities. And then there was Reno, of course, who was suspiciously waiting around a corner, constantly shuffling his feet, looking ready to bounce at any moment.

"Hey," Tifa called out.

He turned around quickly. "Quiet." He glanced around the corner. "C'mon."

She jogged to meet him. He was definitely planning something.

"What's going on?"

He didn't answer right away. Tifa leaned in to look over his shoulder; there was nothing special to this part of the hallway, only two classrooms and the men's bathroom.

Her eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"

He only motioned to stay silent. She could see he was staring at the bathroom door.

"Hide!" Reno suddenly flattened himself against the wall, and Tifa jumped back in surprise. A few seconds later they heard a door open and close. Reno grinned. Then, "A very elaborate prank."

"What?"

"What I did," he whispered. "A prank."

She stared at him.

"Oh, man. You don't know anything 'bout that bathroom, do you?" He didn't wait for her answer. "That's the smokers' hangout. Or used to be anyway. Until a teacher busted them a year or two ago."

"Alright…" She wasn't too sure where this was going.

"Now that teacher is the only one who uses that bathroom. And who's the biggest smoker in Nibelheim?"

Tifa blinked. How would she know?

But the answer was clear when a particularly unholy set of profanities echoed through the hallway and Reno started running, yelling a her to get away, and she stayed rooted on the spot, too taken aback to move.

"You fucking pranked Highwind?" She shouted after him.

She turned around when a door opened brusquely, and only had time to see an irritated teacher she didn't know before taking off after Reno. She stopped near the entrance of the school, only to continue running when she perceived angry footsteps behind her. There was no sign of her friend—and there was no way she would take the blame.

Fumbling with her backpack to get the car keys was no easy task while racing away, and she had just enough time to get into the car before Highwind stormed out of the school, eyes furiously searching for a culprit. Tifa let out a sigh, sliding down her seat until she was barely visible.

Tifa waited until Highwind went back into the school. She knew she shouldn't have talked to Reno. A groan escaped her lips; surely he would have an idea of who was to blame and she didn't doubt she was among the unlucky candidates. And now he would have all night to plot for revenge. She banged her head against the seat. She couldn't wait for tomorrow's class.

"Are you okay?"

Tifa let out a yelp. Sitting to her right, looking a bit perplexed and a bit amused but especially irritated, was Aerith. She had one hand on the door handle.

"How the hell did you get in here?"

Aerith slammed the door shut. "I saw you run. Then I saw the car. And the door was unlocked." Her tone was curt. Tifa shifted nervously in her seat.

"Can you drive me home?" Aerith asked.

"Yeah…where's you car?"

Her friend frowned as she rummaged through her purse. She took out her cell phone and read something on the screen, only to appear even more annoyed.

"You know what I hate?"

Tifa put the keys in the ignition, glancing at Aerith in surprise. "No?"

"It's when people take your stuff. They do whatever they want with it. They don't even tell you they took it. And when you finally find out, it's usually all broken."

"So… Cloud took your car?"

Aerith seemed taken aback. She let out a chuckle.

"I should have known you would think that."

They passed Tifa's street; she slowed down, not knowing where to go from here.

"What? He goes around searching for trouble."

Another chuckle. "Not that much. The two of you just keep seeing the bad side of each other. It's true," she added, seeing the hesitant look Tifa gave her. "Oh, turn right here!"

"Okay. So, I'm driving you home because Cloud wrecked your car?"

"It's the last house on the street." Aerith peered at her phone again. "And no, Zack did. Well, Cloud let him."

Tifa shrugged. "Same thing."

"Yeah… the problem is that it's not really my car. It's Elmyra's. Cloud's going to repair it for sure, but still,"—she sighed heavily—"it's frustrating."

The car stopped in front of a nice, modest house with a giant garden in front. The cold weather hadn't gone easy on all the flowers, but Tifa could only imagine how beautiful it must have looked during summer and spring.

"Wow. Your family must love gardening."

Aerith laughed as she got out of the car, signalling at Tifa to do the same.

"It's mostly just me." Her bad mood had gradually disappeared along the way. It made Tifa more comfortable.

They walked up the porch stairs. Aerith was humming a strangely familiar song as she unlocked the door and stepped inside. Tifa followed suit, but came to a stop in the entrance hall. If there was one word to describe the house, it was open. From where she was, Tifa could see some of the kitchen, the living room, part of a bathroom, as well as a bedroom. Stairs leading to the second floor were directly in front of her. It was so different from her house, in more ways than one. The colours were bright, but still tasteful. There were photographs and plants and antique-looking things everywhere without being overbearing. She could feel her heart constrict in her chest, and she realized that it was jealousy; her house would never be that homely.

Aerith had already removed her shoes and was heading for the kitchen. For a second, Tifa could only stare at her and contemplate leaving suddenly. But then she also removed her sneakers, dropped her bag next to Aerith's, and went after her.

"Do you want something to eat? I'm starving."

She was reminded of her measly lunch. "Sure."

"We have cookies." Aerith sat at the table, facing Tifa. The bag of cookies was nearly empty. "Oops."

"It's alright. I'll be eating supper soon, anyway."

They started to eat the remaining butter cookies in silence. Awkwardness hung over their head. Tifa wasn't too sure what to do; it felt like most of her relationships were tense these days.

"So," Aerith began, "about this morning... I'm sorry."

Well, that was bit unexpected.

"For real?"

"What do you mean, 'for real'? Why not?"

Tifa raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "You're usually pretty straightforward. I can't really see you backing out on your words."

Her friend waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, no, I'm not sorry about that. I still mean what I said. I'm sorry about the way I approached the subject. Pulling you into an empty classroom and all that."

"That was your idea? I thought for sure it was Yuffie's."

"Well, it was Yuffie who suggested that we go all ninja on you and kidnap you." Aerith smiled. "I just said we should have a private talk; an empty room seemed better than the hallway."

"Yeah… Look, let's just forget about it. You were worried, I get that—"

"No. We're having this talk."

"What?" Tifa blinked. Hadn't they already talked about this? It didn't matter if it had lasted less than five minutes. She didn't need to be told to embrace the system once more. Aerith went on as if she hadn't spoken.

"At first I wasn't too sure how you were…adjusting, let's say. To be honest, I didn't even think about it. We're so used to this system here, and barely nobody moves here. But then, after this morning…" She started playing with her hair, making little braids here and there. "Then, I remembered that I was a new student, too, once. Elmyra and I moved here when I was in fifth grade. Of course, it's not the same as high school. But I felt very awkward. It took me a while to get used to everything." She got up to throw the empty bag of cookies away. "Anyway, all this rambling to say I sort of understand why you'd feel uneasy around us. It's not like I want to force you into being our friend. I really like you and so does everybody, but you know, if you don't like us…"

For a few seconds, Tifa was at a loss of words. There was no denying that she had not been anticipating this. Everybody she had met here, except for Elliot, Jordan and to a certain degree, Cloud, was so accepting of their strange gang system; the thought itself was still a bit surreal to Tifa, only made worse by the town's adherence to it.

"No, it's not… It's not you guys… I just…" For some reason she couldn't meet Aerith's gaze even if she knew there wouldn't be a hint of blame or anger in them. "It's the whole thing—the gangs. You can't really think I'll get used to them so quickly?"

"But what if we give you time?"

Tifa shrugged. "I guess. Though I'll probably never be comfortable with it."

"And that's okay." Aerith snickered. "Don't look so surprised, Tifa."

"Sorry. I think I keep expecting the worst out of this town. Maybe I wasn't fair to you all. I sorta assumed you wouldn't let me make friends with, you know, ravens."

"For my part, I don't care."

"Yeah… I did meet some of them. They were pretty nice." She swiped a lock of hair behind her ear. Should she mention Vincent? Zack certainly didn't seem to appreciate him much, and saying his name in front Cloud was a big no-no, as she had learned a few days ago.

"Like whom?" Aerith grinned. There was a suspicious knowing glint reflected in her eyes.

"Like Jessie, but I haven't seen her in a while… A girl named Phoebe. And, um, Vincent. Vincent Valentine."

"I remember Jessie! Is she doing okay?"

Tifa frowned at her dismissal of Vincent. Were they pretending he didn't exist now?

"As far as I know, yeah. Like I said, it's been some time since I last talked to her."

Aerith tapped her chin. "Yes… That's good." She didn't add anything for a whole minute. The sound of a car door closing was heard in the distance. Tifa suddenly became nervous.

"Talk to Zack about Vincent."

"Why?"

"Believe me, you'll want to hear what he has to say." Aerith gave her another smile. It was genuine.

"But—"

"Subject closed!" She clapped her hands at the same time as the front door opened. "C'mon, Tifa. Let's go in my room."

Tifa got out of her seat, feeling confused, until she heard Cloud's voice. Of course the subject would be closed now. She followed Aerith out of the kitchen, and there was Cloud, bickering with a small kid with a messy flop of brown hair; he had to be 12 at most.

"Hey!" Aerith didn't sound friendly anymore. "Where's my car?"

Cloud barely glanced at her. "Zack has it. And it's not even your car."

"Who cares whose car it is? Where is it? Did you repair it yet?"

He gave her an annoyed look. "Obviously not. Just ask Zack. And Denzel, go do your homework. Now."

So that was Denzel. The kid turned towards the stairs, pouting, but stopped when he saw Tifa.

"Who's that?" He pointed a finger at her.

"I'm gonna guess Tifa," Cloud said without even bothering to glimpse in her direction. He gave Denzel a small push to get him moving. "Homework."

"You're a jerk!" Aerith called after him as he climbed up the stairs. "I swear, the two of you have a radar to detect each other's presence," she went on, more calmly this time. "Let's go in my room."

Tifa wasn't too sure how to take Cloud's blatant dismissal of her being there. Perhaps her words about him in Science truly had bothered him.

"Tifa."

She gave a start at the sound of her friend's voice. "Oh, right."

Aerith's room was at the end of the hall. It was relatively small, with a single bed pushed in the far corner and facing the door. There was a desk on the right, next to a closet, and above it photographs covered the light purple wall. Tifa sat at the desk and gave the chair a few spins.

"Who was that kid?"

"Denzel?" Aerith let herself fall on her bed.

Tifa nodded.

"His younger brother. He can be a bit of a trouble maker sometimes."

"What a surprise."

"Yeah, yeah. But I guess it was to be expected…"

This caught Tifa's attention. By the look on Aerith's face it was obviously better not to ask any more questions. Aerith carried on the conversation, switching subjects, but Tifa was only half-listening and her replies were almost nonexistent. Some pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together. And although she was still curious, it wasn't all she was feeling; she just wanted to understand. As much was she liked poking fun at Cloud, it was much out of pettiness anymore, but more something she had gotten used to. Their banter, whether serious or playful, had become part of her life in Nibelheim. But it was an habit she was ready to part with.

She jumped a little when Aerith suddenly got up and gave her arm a tap. "Mom just got here. Are you staying for dinner?"

_Is it that late already?_ "Sure."

"Good. Mom will be happy. Let's go say hello."

Elmyra was scolding Denzel in the kitchen, but looked up when they came in. Tifa couldn't find any words to describe the expression that took over her face as she repeatedly glanced between Cloud and Tifa. Still, she quickly covered it with a welcoming smile.

"Does that mean that you two are getting along now?"

What an odd question, Tifa thought. One with no current answer. So she stayed silent.

Cloud stared at her for a second, and sighed when she didn't answer. "I didn't invite her over," he said.

Elmyra was clearly disappointed, and it made Tifa grin. "Don't worry, we won't kill each other."

"That's reassuring. Well, Denzel, go upstairs and do your homework. _Now_."

"You heard her," Cloud said, ruffling his brother's hair.

As they both passed by Elmyra, she slapped the back of Cloud's head. Tifa was slightly let down when he didn't yelp like a girl again.

"What was that for?" He rubbed the spot where she had hit him.

"Watch what you say. And go keep an eye on Denzel."

"That's what I was doing before, anyway," he mumbled.

When both boys had disappeared, Aerith went to hug her mother. "Tifa is staying for dinner, Mom."

"That's fine. We'll be eating spaghetti. It won't take long; I just need to cook the pasta."

"Thanks," Tifa smiled. "I hope you really don't mind."

Elmyra waved her off. "Of course not."

Just as she was about to turn around and leave, the phone rang. Aerith took it and by the way her eyes flashed, Tifa couldn't help but pity Zack.

"Sorry," Aerith said, looking at Tifa, "it'll take a second." She mouthed 'sorry' again and left for her room.

Poor guy. Tifa shook her head, smirking. But the smirk quickly died when Elmyra asked her to please go upstairs and check on Denzel and Cloud.

"Sure…" She answered. There was a very suspicious and unmissable smile etched on the older woman's face. _I swear, it's a conspiracy_.

There were only three rooms upstairs, but since all the doors were closed it was hard to tell which one was Denzel's. She particularly didn't want to open the doors one by one and end up face-to-face with a grumpy Cloud.

A soft voice came from her right. "Are you looking for Cloud?"

Tifa started. There was a small lounge with a couch, a coffee table, and a television right besides the stairs. Denzel was sitting on the floor and what appeared to be his infamous homework laid scattered on the table. From afar, she could see that it was all blank except for a couple of doodles here and there.

"No," she answered, going to sit next to him. "Elmyra asked me to come check on you two."

At her words, he picked up his pencil and hunched over, as if trying to hide the empty worksheet.

"Don't worry, I won't tell her."

He gave her a doubtful glance, but then sighed. "It's okay. I really should do it anyway. I'll get in trouble again and Elmyra'll be mad at me."

She tilted her head to the side. "Have you been living here for long?"

"Huh. Wait." He started to count on his fingers. "This is going to be the fourth year."

Tifa did some math in her head. So Cloud would have been a freshman. No, that wasn't right. He had failed his sophomore year and had been forced to redo it. She could feel her heart tighten a bit.

"Do you need to check on Cloud?"

Tifa's eyes widened. "What?"

"That's what you said, no?"

"Right." She rubbed the side of her neck. "Denzel, is he mad?"

He stared at her weirdly. "About the homework? No."

She chuckled, some of the tension in her body gone. Of course he would think that. "That's good. I'll check on him if you want."

Denzel nodded, a serious expression overtaking his features. He pointed to the middle door. "That's his room."

"Alright, alright," she said as she got up on her feet.

Tifa opened the door slowly until she could get a good look without having to come in. The room was somewhat similar to Aerith's in size and disposition. The walls were white and one side was covered with posters of all sorts. She looked around for a few more seconds, surprised at how neat and messy Cloud's bedroom was at the same time. There was barely anything covering the floor, but the desk was crumbling under piles of papers, books, and movie cases, although they were all obviously organized in their own specific way. Cloud himself was sleeping, an arm thrown over his eyes. He didn't have a bed per se; instead, he had set down a mattress right next to the door. A small night table was standing in front of the improvised bed, right above Cloud's head.

She stepped out of the room but didn't close the door. "He's sleeping," she whispered.

Denzel didn't bother to keep his voice down. "Wake him up. We're gonna eat."

Great.

Tifa squatted down next to the bed, sighing internally. She poked Cloud's arm.

"What," he grumbled.

"Awesome. You're already awake." She got up at once.

"Tifa…?"

She turned around. He had removed the arm from his face. She could easily tell that he hadn't be sleeping at all.

"What did you…" He paused and sat up. "Forget it. It's nothing."

Her heart started to beat faster. He had heard her and Vincent. She just knew.

"We're, hum, we're eating soon."

"Okay." He stared at her expectantly.

The door closed softly on her way out.

—

Dinner had been an interesting experience. Tifa couldn't help but notice that it was so different from the ones she had everyday. Aerith was doing the dishes and Tifa had insisted on helping her. Cloud was still sitting at the kitchen table, playing around with his phone. The silence was comfortable for once, but Tifa could have used for some distractions from her thoughts. Although the Strife-Gainsborough family had made her feel welcome there was still the nagging sensation that she would not have these kind of dinners again. Not with her father.

Her father.

She almost dropped the plate she had been in the process of drying. _Shit_. _I'm forgetting something._

"Oh, hey, Tifa, did you get a car?"

"The…car?"

Cloud gesture to the window with head. "Yeah. It's yours, right?" It was as if he had read her thoughts.

Tifa groaned. "I forgot to call my Dad!" She rushed for the entrance hall where she had left her bag and took out her cellphone. She had two missed calls. "Fuck."

She dialed her home number. Her father answered on the second ring. "Hello, Dad?"

"Tifa? Where are you?"

She took a deep breath. "Dad, I'm sorry, I forgot to call you. My friend needed a ride home and then they invited me over for dinner, but I forgot it was your day off and that I had the car." She bit her bottom lip.

"Calm down, Tifa. It's alright."

Her eyebrow shot up in surprise. "Really? You're not mad? I mean, I have your car and all…"

"Yes. I'm glad you're making friends. That's all. Just don't come back too late."

"Right."

"Well…Bye," he coughed his usual awkward cough.

"Dad, next time you have a day off, I'll remember."

She could practically hear his smile through the phone. "That'd be nice. Bye."

"Bye." She ended the call but still stood there a moment. There was no way he couldn't be just a little mad. He had to be disappointed. There was no way.

When she walked back into the kitchen, Cloud was gone. Aerith grabbed Tifa's wrist and dragged her toward her room.

There was big, mischievous grin etched on her face. Tifa didn't like it. At all.

"Tifa, I have some homework to do now." Her smile got bigger, if that was even possible. "Why don't you go talk to my cousin in the meantime?"

"Huh, it's fine, I'll just head home…"

Aerith shook her head. "No, no, no." Her voice got lower. "See, I have to do some work and you're waiting for me."

"Okay…"

"You don't get it, do now?"

"I seriously don't, Aerith. Am I-wait, are you asking me to somehow cover for you?"

"Exactly!"

Tifa was speechless. "I still don't get how it's going to work."

"It's okay, me neither. But Mom usually leaves me alone when I have friends over, so if you stay here and wait for me, she'll just think I'm doing homework. I think."

"That's such a bad plan."

"It's worth a try," Aerith shrugged. "I won't be out for long, anyway. Just the time to let Zack know what I'm _really_ thinking." Her eyes flared up once more.

"I still…don't get it. Why do you have to sneak out, he's your boyfriend."

Aerith rolled her eyes. "Ha! I might as well change my name to Juliet. Mom tolerates him as Cloud's friends, but apparently that doesn't make him a good boyfriend. And she totally noticed that her car is not in the driveway."

So both families didn't seem to approve of each other. Her intuition had been right. About Zack's parents at least.

Tifa crossed her arms. "Let's recap; you sneak out, I tell your mom I'm waiting for you to finish your homework, I go bother Cloud, and then wait for you to come back? And you're sure it's gonna work?"

"Not really. But like I said, it's worth a try."

"One thing, why don't I just hide in your room?"

Aerith shook her head. "I tried that. The lack of voices was very obvious."

"I think the fact that you're doing homework while a friend is over is even more obvious."

The tell-tale sound of an incoming text echoed in the room. Aerith looked at her phone.

"Okay, I leave the rest up to you!"

She climbed on her bed, and just as she was about to go out by the window, she turned around, "I'll be back in 20 minutes!"

Twenty minutes to talk with Cloud. To find out if what she had said in Science had bothered him.

Tifa stayed rooted on the spot as her friend disappeared. "That is _the _worst plan I've ever heard," she thought aloud.

—

After fulfilling her part of the plan and telling Elmyra that Aerith was busy studying, Tifa ascended the stairs. Cloud looked up as the sound of her footsteps grew louder.

"Hey." His eyes drifted back to the mute TV.

Tifa climbed the last step, but didn't come nearer.

"Aerith said she had to study for a test tomorrow, so..."

He nodded. "OK."

_How can they not find that weird?_

"Do you mind if I sit with you?"

He almost cut her off. "It's fine, Tifa."

She swallowed. "Of course."

She stole a peek at his face as she sat down on the other end end of the couch. she could tell he was irritated by her nervousness. She would have never thought that something as simple as watching television could be so awkward.

"What are you watching?"

Cloud shrugged. "Dunno. I just turned the TV on."

"Why mute it, thought? I mean," she added quickly, "I don't really see the point."

"I just like it better that way."

He got up on the couch and opened the small window above his head. "Why didn't you go home?" He took out a cigarette.

Tifa didn't give him an answer, watching him light up his cigarette instead. There's something fascinating about voluntarily speeding up your death, she thought.

Just as he was about to take the first drag, he suddenly jumped to his feet again. "Shit." Cloud leaned over the bannister to rapidly look downstairs. He sat back on the couch, a little closer than Tifa felt comfortable.

"Oh yeah. You don't mind right?" He asked, waving his lighter, as if he only now remembered her that she was next to him. She shook her head no.

Tifa hoped that he would have forgotten his previous question. She wasn't even thinking about Aerith's wacky escape plan. In reality, there was really no reason for her not to leave.

But Cloud was looking her way expectantly. "So?"

She crossed her legs and stared at the television. A man was running after a car. Was it supposed to be funny? Romantic? Maybe dramatic.

"I guess..." She paused. What was she supposed to say? "I didn't really feel like it."

She didn't miss his disbelieving expression.

"Alright." He nodded, his attention returning to the TV.

Did she hate his habit of nodding absentmindedly sometimes. She didn't glance at him when he continued.

"I thought that since your dad's home, you would, you know, go back." He nodded again.

Tifa sighed. "What do you want, Cloud?"

At least he didn't have the nerve to look innocent.

"Hey, I just know there's a reason. That's all." His tone was dry, bordering on arrogant. It only annoyed her more.

"You are so..." What? Infuriating? Presumptuous? She couldn't herself to finish her sentence. There was this little voice that told her that perhaps he was making conversation, being friendly. Perhaps he just cared. She closed her eyes and rested her head on the back on the couch. What to say, what to say.

In the end, she didn't think she was so worried about what had happened earlier today in Science that she wanted to discuss it. Still, it felt like Cloud's unclear reaction to what he had overheard was nagging her. Tifa had no idea if she had hurt him or if he was indifferent to her comments. More often than not, it appeared to be the later.

Or she could have simply stayed to attempt to force answers out of him. Yes, Tifa decided, that was more like it.

"Can you tell me something?" She brought her knees to her chest, mentally bracing herself for his very likely refusal. She toyed with the scarf around her neck

"Depends," Cloud said. "Will you tell me something in return?" He put out his cigarette in the ashtray laying on the carpeted floor.

"It depends."

He chuckled. It wasn't very happy. "Alright, Lockheart; I'll play your game. Shoot."

Back to Lockheart. He was getting defensive.

"Why do you get away with everything? Not just you. Zack and Reno and all of you guys."

There was a shadow of a smirk on his lips. "Magic."

"Seriously."

"Honestly? Not my story to tell. It's as simple as that."

"You always say that." Tifa rubbed her cheek. "Can't you give me a straight answer for once?"

"Once? Okay. Just choose another question."

"Of course," she mumbled. Cloud laughed. "Why do you hate Vincent? You two were friends before."

Even though he tried not to show it, Tifa could discern the sudden stillness in Cloud's movement, the slight hesitation before he spoke, the way his gaze became icy. She expected this. He lit up a fresh cigarette.

"At the time I thought he did something I couldn't forgive. Now's a bit late to patch up things." He leaned forward a little, and away from her.

"You _thought_? You mean there is no real misunderstanding?" She regretted not being able to control the surprise in her voice. He gave her a cross look.

"Like I said, something happened."

Tifa was aware she shouldn't push him to reveal anything else about Vincent, and so she merely nodded.

She didn't count on him to continue talking.

"It's a lot more...complicated then it should be. I did something I shouldn't have. And I..." He chuckled humorlessly again. "It just happened. Yeah, it just happened."

As she listened to him, Tifa couldn't help but repeat to herself over and over again that Cloud Strife was opening up to her. She almost wanted to speak the thought aloud to make it real.

"You know, um, Vincent... he still cares about what happens to you," she said softly.

He stayed silent.

Then, finally, "That's nice to know."

Her heart clenched. "You don't really care, do you?"

Cloud let out a heavy sigh.

"What do you want me to say, Lockheart? I used to. But now it's over and done with."

There was a long pause, and they both pretended to watch the television.

"Maybe I shouldn't have told you that." Tifa tucked a lock of hair behind her left ear. Strangely, she didn't feel nervous.

He only shrugged.

"Cloud..." He turned towards her, but she didn't glance at him. "I didn't go home because I wanted to talk to you. I didn't know what about. I thought it might be about what you heard this afternoon. But then, not really. I figured we could just...talk. Like be geeks and talk about the weather and whatnot. But I had nothing to say. And then we started talking about this fucking town."

It took a moment for him to say anything back, and when he did he patted her head and said, "It's okay," and she did not know if he was being nice or something else.

When Cloud put out his second smoke, she realized how late it was getting. Aerith would be getting back soon. But she felt bolder now, and she still had a question for him.

"Mind if I ask you another thing? I'll leave after that." She smiled. "Promise."

He ran a hand through his hair, making it messier. "I guess."

"Did your-" She started, sort of reluctant to go on. You can do it, she told herself. "Did your mother really commit suicide?"

She held her breath in anticipation of his reaction. He was completely emotionless.

"Yes."

_Don't push your luck, Tifa_.

"Why?"

Cloud turned the television's sound back on.

—

**A/N: **Alright. Where do I start? It's been a (really, really) long time. But this isn't abandoned! I'm not making any promises about my updating schedule because, let's be honest, I won't stick to it anyway. I told myself I should write the next chapter before posting this one to make sure I wouldn't disappear again, but I figured you guys had waited long enough ;)

As for why I was gone for so long, that's my business. I'm just happy to be back. I did put a link to my LJ back recently, and I plan on using it to post updates on the chapters and snippets from time to time. Maybe some original work, too.

thank you for your patience. it means a lot to me:

**ClotiNotCleris, cloudlover2989, Marisa, Sheiky, SugarHoney91, demonegg, vLuna, darkangel8694, MyfinalfantasyVII, cerberus angel, BlueWings92, pangpond, BananaPeaceMonkeyKarmi, HeloEyes, Germina., Synchypn0tic17, TorigaOkami, 8Tifa8, tara, …, anna, ken08002, YAY4FINALFANTASY, preciouslittle, xPhiieebeex-ayannaaki, J Luc Pitard, midnight vinyls, & BoozeWeedGold!**

FAQ!

_**Q: How old are Cloud and Tifa?**_

_A: _Tifa is 17 and Cloud is 19. For reference, Zack is 18, Aerith is 16, Reno and Vincent are 17, Yuffie is 15 (Jordan is 17 and Elliot, 18). I know their age differences are different from the game. No need to tell me.

_**Q: Where did you get the idea to name the groups the wolves and the ravens?**_

_A: _That's a good one. At first the groups didn't even have animal names to them; after trying different combinations, I thought these would work the best. I thought of the wolves because it's a symbol used heavily in AC. I couldn't find a good name for the other group for a while. But since I'm a _huge_ mythology nerd, I thought back to the Norse pantheon with the wolf Fenrir and Odin's ravens, Huginn and Muninn. It sort of clicked in my head. Yeah.

_**Q: What's so special about the elite and what separates them from the regular wolves?**_

_A: _I can't really reveal that now. Let's just say, the elite did some things to gain that status. It's not just something that was given to them; they acquired it.

_**Q: What kinds of secrets are Aerith and Zack hiding?**_

_A: _Some are petty and nearly meaningless, some are heavy and important. It's not just them who are hiding something.

_**Q: Is someone going to hurt TIfa?**_

_A: _Maybe. Who knows (well, except for me)?

_**Q: Where does the rape/suicide/murder that used to be mentioned at the beginning of the chapters come in?**_

_A:_ Soon. Very soon. The story will finally take off in the next chapters. If the chapter is more graphic than usual, I will let people know at the beginning.


	15. pranks, nightmares, and a perfect fit

**Chapter 15: **_pranks, nightmares, and a perfect fit_

—

**A/N: **there's a little bit of French in this chapter. Here's the translation:

_**Au contraire, il est heureux**_: It's the opposite; it makes him happy.

—

Operation Avoid Cid Highwind was doomed from the start.

As with all doomed plans, the preparations had gone smoothly. In a useless effort to camouflage herself in the hallways, Tifa had decided on wearing different clothes than her usual jeans and tops. Instead, she had put on a mid-thigh long dress paired with a cardigan and dark tights. She had even discarded her backpack for a messenger bag she would typical use as a purse. Her hair was braided to the side. When she observed herself in the mirror, she put her hands on her hips and sighed. If only she had a wig, then nobody would recognize her. Or so she tried to convince herself.

As with all doomed plans, the weather was sunny and gave the impression of being a sign a success. Tifa walked to school in hopes of calming her nerves. So far there was no problem. The mechanics class was to be workshop, and she and Biggs should be left alone as Cid had a tendency to go smoke outside during these types of classes.

And of course, as with all doomed plans, Tifa never expected her not-so carefully crafted operation to go wrong on so many levels.

The moment she entered the school, she understood that it would.

Highwind was standing in the hallway, glaring at whomever came in sight. Without thinking twice about it, Tifa stepped back out. Some of the students gave her a weird look, but she ignored them. She had assumed that he would have been angry. But certainly not to that extent. Certainly not. Not to mention, it was one thing to be confronted by Highwind in the hallways and another to be yelled at during class. The last thing she needed at the moment was a scene at school.

It was time for an improvised Plan B. There was another entrance to the school, one that was mostly just used by people who wanted to smoke, or so she had been told. Tifa went around the building. Even at this time of the day, there was a cloud of smoke hanging in the air, and she only had to follow it to get to the door. Some of the students hanging around said 'hi' to her, but she had no recollection of any of them. She waved and muttered a greeting, all the while trying her best not to cough to death because of the smoke.

Once inside, she realized that, luckily, she was in a part of the hallways near her locker. She took out her cellphone and checked the time. She still had ten minutes until English. She wanted to get there a bit early to let Reno know that he had better take _all_ the freaking blame.

She threw the door of her locker open and shoved the necessary books in her bag. It was the last time, she decided, that she would bring this particular bag to school. Her shoulder wasn't ready to suffer under so much weight everyday. Just as she was about to place her Science textbook on the highest shelve, someone appeared to her right and leaned against the next locker. Tifa's heart jumped a bit at first, believing it was Highwind.

"Hey."

She relaxed a little. It was Cloud. "Hey." He had the hood of his sweater drawn up, and big headphones rested around his neck. She pointed at them. "Those are new?"

"Yeah. Sorta. They used to belong to Reno, but I took them. I don't think he ever noticed." He shrugged.

"Okay." She didn't know what else to say. She had left his house on a bad note yesterday.

"So," Cloud began, "nice weather, eh?"

Tifa glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. He was staring at the ceiling.

"Sure. Not too cold, too."

"Yeah. It's probably going to turn cold next week. It always does."

She closed her locker slowly. "Uh-uh. Why are we talking about the weather?"

He shrugged again; his gaze flicked to hers. "I don't know. Just being a geek, I guess."

_I figured we could just...talk. Like be geeks and talk about the weather and whatnot._

"That's nice of you." She hid her smile behind her hand. "That's really nice of you," she said again, more softly.

They started walking, and she had the feeling that he knew where her class was.

"Why did you get in through that door?"

"You were there?" He did smell lightly of cigarettes.

"At bit to the side."

They turned a corner, but Tifa immediately jumped back and flattened herself against the wall. Cloud gaped at her in shock.

"What the fuck was that?"

"Come here; he'll see you and guess I'm here."

Cloud listened to her. A smirk popped up on his face. "Is it Highwind? 'Cause he was watching me like a hawk. Kinda like that," he added when he noticed the glare Tifa was giving him.

"Don't—oh, forget it. Did you see Reno this morning?"

"Reno? Oh. I get it." His smirk got even wider, if that was even possible. "Highwind thinks you did it."

"Did what exactly? I don't even _know _what." She ran a hand through her hair, momentarily forgetting that it was braided. "I'm going to kill that asshole."

The bell rang and students started to scatter away to class. Cloud leaned back on his heels, glancing at the hallway. "Coast is clear."

She let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks."

He gave her a wave over his shoulder as he started to walk away. Still, Tifa proceeded cautiously, not entirely trusting Cloud to tell her the truth, or Highwind to give up. But the hallway really was empty, and she hurried to get to class. The last thing she needed was Fitzpatrick's wrath as well.

The classroom was almost full when she got there; the only two empty seats where the ones she and Reno usually occupied. Just as she sat down, the second bell rang and the teacher closed the door.

Curse that Reno!

She was going to strangle him.

—

If she had knew that today's Mechanics class would be Cid Highwind staring at his students and staying deadly silent as if waiting for the slightest slip that would reveal the culprit, Tifa would have made a different plan. Alas, she had to endure it like all the other people in the class, most who, no doubt, where utterly confused as to what was going on. Highwind had barely said a word since the past twenty minutes, and while he wasn't only glaring in her direction, Tifa noticed that his eyes would constantly slide toward her. After the first few times she decided to stop looking.

"Sir," someone said a bit tentatively, "what's going on?"

"We're waiting." At least he wasn't so stubborn that he wouldn't talk, although the answer was cryptic at best if you weren't aware of the situation.

_What the hell did Reno do to piss him off that much?_

Tifa had told herself that she would give up on figuring it out, but it didn't matter—her mind kept reeling. She crossed her arms on the desk and rested her head on them. It was impossible to miss Highwind's frown. Whatever, she thought. Let him sulk.

Of course, her day wasn't bad enough. It was missing the cherry on top.

"Hey. Tifa."

The not-so-subtle whisper came from her right. The urge to ignore it was strong, but Tifa caved in. It wasn't like everyone hadn't heard, anyway.

"What?"

The guy next to her quickly glanced at the teacher, then back to her. He leaned in a bit closer. "He keeps looking at you. What happened?"

It was, obviously, the worse question to ask.

In a flash, Highwind was standing in front of her, his hands fisted to his sides. "I'll tell you what happened. Lockheart's going to the goddamn office."

Tifa sat straight, only vaguely surprised. "What?" Her neighbour seemed downright shocked.

"_Now_._" _His tone left no room for argument.

"You know I didn't do anything." She knew he wouldn't believe her, and indeed, he only gestured to the door. "Fine," she said, getting up and hitching her bag on her shoulder and heading for the door. "Why don't you ask yourself why Reno isn't here today?"

Doubt appeared on Cid's face at her words; it nearly made her stop as she walked out of the room. She hadn't done anything wrong, and so she had nothing to fear. Hopefully.

Shinra's office loomed into view. The secretary shook her head, recognizing Tifa as she knocked on the Principal's door.

"Again?"

Tifa didn't know what to say to that. It wasn't like she had been to the office that many times.

"You should leave Mr Highwind alone," the lady said gently just as Shinra opened the door and motioned at Tifa to come in.

Before she could even sit down, Shinra began, "You are so much trouble, Miss Lockheart. I would have thought that after all the times Cid had given you detention you would have learned." He let himself fall into his chair and sighed. "The last prank was one too much."

She took a step forward, getting angry. "I didn't do anything! Nothing a—"

The principal put up a hand to keep her from going on. "Take a seat, Miss Lockheart. And calm down. Then, I'll let you explain your side of the story."

Tifa did as she was told. Well, as much as she could—calming down proved to be a bit trickier. "That's it, sir. I'm not part of the story. I didn't prank Highwind. I wouldn't dare prank Mr Highwind," she hastened as Shinra opened his mouth, most likely to correct her on her omission of title.

He rubbed his temple, looking exasperated. Another sigh.

"Here's the problem, Miss Lockheart. Cid Highwind has been the subject of numerous pranks since the beginning of the year. Since you got here. And that never happened before. It's like you said, people didn't dare."

"Alright, but I'm not part of that. I swear." She twisted her hands in her lap. Her gaze went above the Principal's head. Part of her wanted to tell who was behind the pranks. The other part wanted to deny all possible implication she could have in this. After all, who was to say that Reno and the others wouldn't be mad at her? And Tifa still couldn't determine if she was more scared of Shinra or of the elite.

"I do know who's doing it, though."

"Really?" Was all he said. He didn't sound surprised at all. That made Tifa frown.

"Yes. It's, um, it's Reno Matthews." To hell with it. Cid already knew. "I saw him yesterday, and that's when Mr Highwind must have seen me"

Shinra relaxed in his giant chair. He nodded a few times. Her answer must have satisfied him.

"I was running away," she continued. Better to make things clear. "I was sure Mr Highwind would think it was me, and I didn't want to get caught."

"That didn't do much good, didn't it?" Shinra said, a hint of a smile on his lips.

Tifa was taken aback by his attitude; she chuckled quietly. "Yeah." Who knew Principal Shinra had a sense of humour.

"That's good. You can leave, Miss Lockheart. I'll make sure Cid doesn't bother you about this again."

"Thank you. Have a nice day, sir."

He had already reached for the phone on his desk. "You, too, Tifa."

She exited the office slowly. A young man was waiting there, and he looked somewhat familiar. He hadn't noticed her since his nose was in a book. Her eyes lingered on him a bit longer than necessary, and his head snapped up, startling her. He gave her a slight smile. His face was cold.

"Hello."

Right. Was there a specific way of acting when you were caught spying on someone? She cleared her throat.

"Hi. You, uh, just reminded me of someone. Sorry about that."

She could feel his eyes on her back as she left. It finally clicked in her head much later, right as she was about to enter the cafeteria. She had first spotted him around a month ago when she waiting to see Elmyra with Cloud. And this time, she had been able to pick up the resemblance, not with Cloud, but with Shinra. It had to be his son. They had the same smile.

Aerith waved at her from where she stood in line, and Tifa sped up to meet her. Time for some questioning.

"Where is Reno?" Her voice came out a bit harsher than intended.

To her credit, Aerith didn't seem too startled. "I haven't seen him yet. Why?"

Tifa grunted her disappointment. Too bad. Revenge would have to wait.

"Okay... So what happened yesterday night while I wasn't there. Cloud was pretty mad."

Oh, great. At least he had been fine this morning. It was hard to explain that she meant no harm by asking those questions. Curiosity, and nothing more, she could say. In a way, that's all it was.

But it wasn't something Aerith needed to know.

"Eh, he's always mad when I'm around." She looked at her nails in a manner she hoped was nonchalant. "Anyway," she went on as her friend paid for her lunch, "do you have an idea where Vincent eats?"

Aerith lowered her voice. "Outside. He usually stays on the school's ground, but I don't know where exactly."

She lowered her tray on the table, across from Zack's, and sat down. Tifa considered spending her lunch period with them, but she had something else to do. So when Zack kicked the chair next to himself, she only shook her head no and smiled apologetically.

"Later," Aerith called as she walked away.

Hopefully, they wouldn't believe that she was avoiding them. This time.

Just as she was about to exit the cafeteria, someone grabbed her wrist, and she could tell who it was instantly; his stupid hair could be spotted a mile away. He didn't let go until she glanced his way. She placed one hand on her hip, facing his table.

"Highwind got you?"

"Yeah," Tifa sighed. "But Shinra promised he would get him to back off."

"What happened?" A guy she didn't know asked.

Cloud ignored him. "If that doesn't work, tell me. Cid'll listen to me. No funny business involved," he added at her scowl. "Have a little faith."

Tifa lifted her head slightly and inadvertently met Zack's stare across the room. Anybody could have read his incredulous expression; she could almost hear him utter something akin to: "This is abnormal. This is _very_ abnormal." A giggle escaped her.

"What? What's funny?"

She pointed at his friend. "Check out Zack."

Every head at the table turned around, interest prickled. Most of them snorted, and Chandler snickered. "Can't blame him. The two of you are actually talking."

Cloud's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "As opposed to what?"

"Let's just say it's a miracle one of you isn't dead."

"We never were _that_ bad," Tifa intervened, arms crossed. "Right?"

Cue uproarious laughter.

"Hey, come on. You guys are a real riot." Cloud got up and placed a hand in between her shoulder blades, steering her toward the door. "Let's go, Tifa."

Oh, God. Red flag going up. She followed Cloud out of the cafeteria, attempting to find an excuse for them to go separate ways. They stopped a few meters from the school's entrance; Cloud let himself slump against the nearest wall and ran both hands through his hair.

"Fuck. They're going to pick on me for weeks for that." His head fell back, banging against wall in the process. "Ouch."

"Why would they? You were just being"—_friendly_—"nice to me. But I guess that's reason enough." She smirked.

"They can be such dickheads when they want to, that's why."

Tifa shrugged. "What time is it?"

"Twelve-fifteen, more or less." He took out his cellphone. "Yeah. You got something to do?"

"Sort of," she said, deciding to leave it at that. If she was right he wouldn't push the matter. "But it's fine; I still have thirty minutes."

"Right."

Wasn't that awkward.

She shuffled her feet. Played with her bag's strap. Finally, she raised her eyes. His were still on the floor.

"Thank you," she blurted out, unthinking. "For trying."

He rubbed the side of his neck. Now she knew it meant he was nervous. His right hand slid into his pocket—he was searching for a cigarette.

"Want me to be honest?"

"Sure." It was her turn to be nervous.

"I—I was about to give up on you until yesterday. You were always pushing me back, and it got to me. We were fighting all the time. I thought I was wasting my time since I wasn't even sure if you wanted to be friends. Shit, I sound like a jerk." He gave a jumpy, humourless laugh. "Sorry." This time, he took out his lighter and messed around with it.

"Let's go outside," was all she said.

She turned on her heels, not bothering to make sure he was coming after her. She went down the steps and to the left side of the school. A bunch of students were standing about ten meters from them.

The smell of smoke told her Cloud was still there.

He didn't say anything for a couple of minutes, and neither did she.

"I have to go see Vincent for a project. Want to wait for me?"

Her eyes were closed, so she was unable to tell his reaction. He had probably frozen at her words, his cigarette halfway to his mouth. Then, he would resume movement again and say—

"I dunno."

Spot on.

"Well, I'm going. See ya."

He grabbed her wrist for the second time that day.

"Are we fine? You didn't exactly answer."

Tifa pried his fingers off. Managed a small smile.

"Why don't you wait until I return?"

He gaped at her. "That is so sneaky!"

She hurried away before he could notice that her smile had disappeared. Once she had rounded the corner of the building, she compelled her mind to simmer off. So he had been trying to befriend her! And to think of all the energy she had misspent being a bitch. The thought that he had almost given up was both disconcerting and comforting. After all, he hadn't—that meant her friendship had been worth another try in his eyes.

And she needed to apologize. For everything. For the past month. For the bitchiness.

She practically retraced her steps to confirm he was waiting, but quelled the impulse. They would have plenty of time to talk later.

Finding Vincent wasn't difficult. He was sitting down with other people—friends, perhaps—who were either smoking or eating. One look at his eyes and she knew that coming here had been useless.

She wondered if _anything_ would go according to plan today.

For a split second, she considered heading back. But she found herself crouching to his level and gripping his shoulder forcefully.

"Are you coming to class?" There was a small chance that he would have sobered up by then.

"Class's over, no?"

He sounded genuine. Tifa rolled her eyes; she had the impression that he wasn't aware of whom he was talking to.

"Can you stay after school this week? For the French project."

Someone sniggered, and she decided to disregard it.

"This week? I'll—uh—I'll call you. To be sure. Yeah, to be sure." He nodded once, twice.

Tifa got to her feet. "I'll call you instead."

"Wait, Tifa." He tried to reach for her but he stopped halfway. "I'll go with you. To class."

"Nah, it's okay."

The sound of her footsteps seemed to be swallowed by the avalanche of voices that accompanied her departure. Probably friends puzzled as to why Vincent and her knew each other. Probably something not related to her. She looked at her feet, hands in her cardigan's pockets, making her way back to the school's entrance.

"That didn't do much good, didn't it?"

Not having expected Cloud to have followed her, she jumped. A second (or it might have been third) cigarette rested against his lips. The guy needed to learn how to manage his anxiety. Preferably by choosing a method that wasn't life-threatening.

They stood staring at each other. Fifteen seconds rolled by until Tifa ultimately found a reply. One that would stay true to her without being overly spiteful. Something that would keep a friendly banter going without spoiling their day.

"You sound exactly like Shinra," she said dryly.

"What? The hell does that mean?"

They walked back inside.

—

_My dear Notebook,_

_Why am I still bothering with the 'my dear' business? I'm obviously writing to you. In you. Whatever. _

_So we've been in Nibelheim for more or less 2 months. It's now the last week of October. _

_I'll be honest with myself: I don't get the urge to go home as much anymore. Maybe I'm adapting? As much as possible, anyway… Though, recently everything has been going fine at school. Highwind's torture ended a while ago, Fitzpatrick got tired of bothering me (but he found someone else, so he's still a douchebag in my eyes), and nobody sent me to Shinra's office for the past three weeks! That's almost miraculous! Thankfully, it also means that Reno got told by Shinra. Or Cid. Or Cloud. Or all of them. I mean, I like Reno, but he's got a way to make me hate his guts at the same time. I think he has that effect on everyone. _

_And yes, Notebook, if you haven't noticed I did mention Cloud's name with any sort of…not-so-kind words in front of it. That's because we're friends now. I guess. Honestly, things didn't really change since we had our "conversation" except for the fact that we don't fight (seriously!). But it seems to be a big deal to Zack. Not that he's unhappy with our friendship. _Au contraire, il est heureux_ (see, I've been practicing my French). I think he had given up on us ever being nice to each other. _

_You know, now that I think about it, us not fighting does change a lot. Since that's pretty much all we did. Yeah. Well, that's a lie; we still fight, but it's more like light-hearted banter now. Hurray?_

_Anyway, let's change the subject. The reason why I'm writing to you at 4AM is because of the nightmares. I just had one tonight, but they're not new. I've been having them for nearly a month. They're not really nightmares. They are, but aren't at the same time. Do bad memories count as nightmares? Let's just say that reliving bad memories is a nightmare. That will do. _

_I just wish they would stop. Isn't it enough that I had to go through them once? I thought that talking about it would make them disappear, but it's not like I have anyone to talk to about them. Certainly not Dad. Three days ago I couldn't even look at him while we were eating breakfast. And there wasn't anybody back home to whom I could talk freely. So that leaves you. Though that's what diaries are for. It still feels like I'm talking/writing to myself more than anything… _

_Talking about home, I came to this conclusion: I'll be back in less than a year. All I need to do is finish my senior year, then it's off to Midgar University!_

_I should probably get some sleep, since I need to go to school in a few hours…_

—

When her alarm went off, Tifa didn't hear it. When her Dad came in her room to remind her to get up ("I have to leave _right now_ so be sure to wake up!"), Tifa grumbled an affirmative answer in her pillow. When her alarm went off again, Tifa unplugged it.

There, blissful sleep.

When it was almost one o'clock, her cellphone rang. She reached for it without looking, knocking half of what was on her nightstand in the process.

"Ugh…hello…" Her face was still mostly buried in her (very comfortable) pillow.

She heard someone sigh on the other end, but her mind couldn't register why.

"Tifa, are you sick?"

"Huh?"

She slowly started to push back the covers. Who would call her at—at 12:53?

"Holy shit!"

"She's not sick," the person said, his voice a bit muffled. "Are you—" But she hung up on the caller who suspiciously sounded like Zack in her hurry to get dressed.

Normally, she wouldn't have troubled herself with going to school for two periods. But today was the day where she and Vincent were to _finally_ see Miss Crescent. And she had pestered Vincent way too much to get him to show up to be absent herself.

She ran down the stairs, stopping briefly in front of a mirror in the hallway to make sure she was presentable. Her hair would have to be tied up and she could have chosen a shirt with less wrinkles, but she looked alright otherwise. She grabbed a water bottle and apple from the fridge, and left her house.

Once she was halfway there, she reduced her speed to munch on her improvised lunch. There was no point in hurrying. Science had already begun and knowing Hojo, she was better not to come than to be late. In her haste she had forgotten to grab her PE clothes.

Instead of continuing towards the school, she turned left and headed towards the only café in town. She ought to eat properly since there was no telling when dinner would be. There was a small line; she didn't recognized most of the people, though she could tell they were in high school. She had a vague memory of Cloud mentioning a private academy, but that was all.

She paid for her sandwich, debating whether she should stay and eat here or at school. One last glance at the current clientele made her leave; they didn't seem too welcoming, and the free tables were sparse. She would feel more comfortable somewhere else.

She took her time getting to school, exploring the town a little, sitting down at the soccer park, messing around with her phone (ten unread messages, all from her friends wondering where the hell she was). While wandering around, she realized that she had no clue what to do while skipping classes. The thought made her giggle.

When she arrived, students were already filtering out of the doors. Vincent was waiting for her on the school's steps, reading a book. Tifa smiled; it was exactly like that day after the clash. He didn't spot her until she was standing directly in front of him.

"Skipping?" He raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

He knew her so well.

"Sleeping," she replied absentmindedly. "Ready?"

He grunted, taking his sweet time packing his book and getting up. They went inside, and Tifa narrowed her eyes at Vincent's turtle speed. Scratch that—a turtle would have won in a race against him. Still, she kept her complaints under silence. This meeting with Miss Crescent was too important.

They (eventually) reached the French classroom; Miss Crescent was sitting inside, organizing her desk over and over again. Vincent stayed glued in one place, not stepping in the room.

Alright. He was acting weird. Weirder.

Tifa's glance shifted from one to the other. Miss Crescent was always somewhat anxious, but never this much. At this rate they would still be waiting at nightfall.

Really, all Vince needed was a good push. And a good push she gave him. He stumbled into a desk. The chair toppled over in a clatter that made the teacher look up. She didn't seem surprised to see them. Vincent whirled around to glare at Tifa, who simply smiled sweetly.

"Oh, Tifa, I thought you were sick?" Miss Crescent stared at her a bit too intently.

"Yes, yes, I'm feeling better." She added a cough for good measure. "So you said we could borrow some of your books?"

She froze at the teacher's sigh. That didn't bode well.

"Well, yes…but I already lent them to another group."

Tifa opened her mouth to protest; she had been asking for these books for so long!

Miss Crescent anticipated her irritation. "I gave them priority since they, well, need all the help they can get. And…" Her gaze flickered to Vincent, who was looking at his shoes. "I'm willing to give you an extension."

"Because of the books?"

"Let's just say, Vincent's constant absence plays a part in my decision. However, I'd like you two to keep this under silence." Some more organizing of paper that didn't need to be organized. "I'm not supposed to help you this much."

Were they getting…special treatment?

"I'm not sure I get it, Miss."

Miss Crescent ignored her question. "I'll talk to you some time after class this week to let you know when you can come by. Now, you guys will have to leave. I have to go supervise a study group." She gathered her belongings and got up.

Tifa couldn't believe it. All this for nothing! Maybe not _nothing_, but they had to wait some more and during this time no work was being done.

Vincent stepped outside first, but Miss Crescent walked up to him before he could disappear down the hall.

"I think you should come with me, Vincent," she said gently.

He gave Tifa a strange look over the teacher's shoulder, visibly unsure.

"You're not exactly passing the course." She laid a hand on his arm.

To Tifa's surprise, Vincent's face started to redden, and he managed to nod.

He was blushing!

"No way," she whispered.

That dumbass didn't attend class because he _liked_ the teacher?

The two made for the stairs; Miss Crescent said goodbye to Tifa, who could only wave back stupidly.

He liked Miss Crescent!

She stayed motionless until someone walked by and stared at her quizzically.

While walking in direction of the exit, she mused on what she had learned. This was _so _blackmail material. She exercised restraint not to grin evilly. No, she had to be happy for her friend. But Miss Crescent was a teacher, Vincent was a student, and…and they didn't live in a soap opera. Was Lucrecia even aware of Vincent's affection for her? It had seemed like it by her anxiety to meet them.

It registered in her mind that she had continued strolling 'til the school's basketball court came into view. A couple of guys were playing, and she recalled seeing them at the café. Standing on the side were Zack and a tall, burly guy.

Good timing, she thought. Aerith had told her to talk to Zack about Vincent, and with what had just happened she was eager to learn a bit more.

She took three steps before stilling when she saw what they were doing. Or more precisely, what they were exchanging.

Oh, no. She was _not_ going to be part of this.

Acting like a superior jerk was one thing. Having the power of the school in your hand and having no qualms about using it was another thing. But drugs—that was something else entirely in her book.

Thankfully, no one of them noticed her. The tall guy returned to his friends, and Zack set out for the school, jingling something in his pockets. Tifa followed him from afar. Part of her wanted to confront him, another wanted to leave him alone. When he turned to go to his car, she went on straight.

Alright, Tifa, you need to calm down, she told herself. He probably had a reason. That was the way with the elite, right? According to Vincent, Cloud was secretive for a good reason. Why wouldn't Zack have a good reason? It wasn't as if she hadn't thought that drug traffic didn't exist in Nibelheim; Vincent was proof of that. The sudden thought that Zack was Vincent's drug dealer unexplainably twisted her stomach in knots.

Tinkering noises brought her out of her reverie; she was standing next to the auto-shop. From where she was she could see Cid chain-smoking as usual, yelling orders and glaring at everything and everyone. There were six students from her Mechanics class. And there was Cloud, frowning in concentration as he examined something under a blue car's hood.

"Hey," she said quietly.

His head shot up at her voice. His white t-shirt was stained to hell and back. She motioned at it. "You should wash that."

In the background, Highwind shouted an order. Cloud's eyes searched her face; he closed the car's hood.

"What happened?"

She leaned against the car, trying to appear relaxed.

"I slept in this morning."

No answer.

She sighed. "I can't lie to you, can I?"

"Not when your hands are shaking." He came to stand in front of her.

There was no need for her to glance at them to know he was telling the truth. She crossed her arms over her chest. No more shaking.

"Zack's pretty rich, no?"

"What kind of question is that? You've seen his house."

Wow, she needed new shoes. And maybe new jeans, too. It was about time she went shopping.

"Tifa, what is going on?"

"Is there another school in Nibelheim?"

A strange look overcame his features. "Yeah. Nibelheim Private Academy. Are you thin—"

"Do they have a basketball team?"

At this, Cloud stayed silent.

"Is there a player that's really tall and brawny and—"

It was his turn to cut her off. "Fuck," he muttered. He repeated the swear word a couple of times. Closed his eyes, reopened them, ran a filthy hand through his hair. Tifa was amazed he didn't start pulling one cigarette after the other.

"What the hell was he thinking?"

"I agree," she said flatly. "What the hell was he thinking?"

"They were at basketball court?"

She nodded, a bit disappointed by his lack of a proper answer. She willed her voice to remain unfazed. "What would have happened if he had been caught?"

This was her chance. It wouldn't take long for Cloud to understand she meant to interrogate him.

"By the school?" He shuffled his feet, hands deep in his jeans' pockets. "What do you think?"

Not much, then. "The cops?"

Cloud hesitated long enough to make her realize that he was about to lie. "I'm not sure. It never happened."

It was her turn not to answer him.

"Nothing, Teef," he sighed. "Nothing would have happened."

"Does he pay them, or what?" She leaned forward a bit.

"No. It's not my—"

"Story to tell, I know." Tifa smiled coldly. "It's never your story to tell, isn't it, Cloud? Do you do anything but keep Zack's secrets? Fuck, it's like you're his lapdog. Do you deal for him, too, eh?"

Cloud wouldn't meet her eyes. Even though he tried to hide it, she could sense that she had hit home.

"Oh, my God. You do. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"It's—"

"Wait, let me guess: It's complicated. I wouldn't get it. Something like that, right?"

"You're mad," he stated softly.

"No shit, Strife. Next thing I know you'll tell me I shouldn't be."

He rubbed the back of his head. "I wouldn't do that."

"You guys are crazy. You're all crazy. Aren't you afraid one day someone's going to uncover all of your fucking lies and it'll be over, Cloud? No more elite, no more controlling the town."

"That's enough."

Her eyes flashed in anger. She didn't think so.

"I could go to—"

"That's enough," he shouted.

Everything fell silent. Highwind and all the other students glanced their way. Cloud turned on his heels, going in a small adjoining room. He slammed the door behind him.

"There's nothing to see," Cid yelled. He gave her a curt nod; worry was etched on his face, barely discernable. Tifa nodded back, falling hard against the side of the car. Did she really have to go and destroy all their progress? She wanted to hit herself repeatedly on the head for her stupidity. Hadn't she learned _anything_ when it came to Cloud? She should have known better than to insist and back him in a corner like that. He never reacted well whenever it occurred.

Tifa slowly made her way to the room Cloud had stormed off to. The door was unlocked, and so she pushed it open. He was sitting in a chair, hands over his face. His hair was wet and his shirt clean; the dirty one had evidently been thrown across the room, where it lay next a duffel bag. She crouched in front of him, putting her bag down.

"I'm sorry."

He sighed heavily and ruffled his hair. She received a few drops of water.

"Don't you think I know all of that?" His whisper was a stark contrast with the previous loudness of his voice. "I don't even—I hate it. Fuck, Teef, I hate it. I've never told anyone before."

She shook her head. "I'm still sorry. I'll leave the subject alone."

"Thanks." He didn't sound so sure. "I'm sorry, too," he added more firmly.

"Alright," she said, getting up and brushing invisible dust from her dress. She gave him her hand to help him stand. "Let's be friends again."

He let out a good-natured laugh and took her hand, not letting go as he led them out of the pseudo-office. Tifa's heartbeat escalated when he subconsciously intertwined theirs fingers together. The only thought that rand through her head was that she would need to find a way to explain this to Highwind as his jaw (and cigarette) dropped to the floor when he spotted them.

"You know, Cloud," she started casually as they walked outside of the auto-shop, "this is going to start a shitload of rumours."

"What?"

"This." She shook their linked hands. "And the fight, too."

He suddenly went rigid, and Tifa, who didn't notice soon enough, crashed into him. The hold on her hand went slack.

"The hell?" She stepped from behind his back to see what had happened. Two guys were coming their way. One of them she knew from Zack's back-to-school party; he had invited her to dance, sparking a memorable quarrel between her and Cloud. She scoured her memory for his name, but could only remember that it began by a 'C' (it was probably Connor). The other could be best described as being threatening. His short black hair and tall, lean build made her think of panther. The predatory smirk didn't help. Tifa fought the urge to resume her place behind Cloud.

"Hey!" Maybe-Connor said to her, smiling. At least he smiled normally. "I remember you."

"I remember you, too," she replied.

He grinned more widely. "Awesome." He gestured to his friend. "This is Donovan. Have you guys met before?"

"Nope." So that was Donovan, dumbass extraordinaire according to Elliott and Jordan. "Nice to meet you." Or not.

"Is it today?" Cloud intervened before Donovan could even open his mouth.

"Yeah. You ready, or you need to get something?"

Tifa's eyes narrowed. She couldn't help but wonder what 'something' might be. Donovan caught her misgivings.

"Nothing suspicious, sweetheart. So?" He asked Cloud.

"Just give me five minutes."

Donovan shrugged. "Chandler's waiting in the parking lot. We'll be there. C'mon, Cole."

So his name was Cole. Both guys left, talking in hushed tones.

"What, are you guys going on an undercover operation?"

Cloud gave her a condescending look. "We're just hanging out." Just like Zack, he fumbled with something in his pockets that made a jingling noise.

It dawned on Tifa, then, what were in those damned pockets. Keys to the school. She almost told him. It was better if she pretended not to know. Actually, it was better if she pretended that everything she had witnessed today didn't exist. Until later, anyway.

"Donovan's your friend?"

"Sort of." He grunted. "He's a guy who enjoys making people miserable more than anything else."

Didn't that make her feel more reassured. "I'll leave, then." She started to back away toward the sidewalk.

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"Alright."

The return of the awkwardness!

"Bye."

"See ya."

Cloud didn't move immediately, but when he finally left, he didn't look back. She let herself go on auto-pilot, heading home. And as she walked, she thought back to Cloud's hand in hers. And how it had been, unexpectedly, a perfect fit.

—

**A/N: **Let me know if you believe it'd be useful to have an OC character sheet to refresh your memories(since I didn't update for so long). I would post it with the next chapter.

huge thanks to:  
**Lord Divestre Croft, sakR9, JukedSolid, cerberus angel, WhatIWant, RegalRose.x, demonegg, BananaPeaceMonkeyKarmi, FinalxFenrir7, Dani, Fairhannabi, GigiThECraZyxsilentAnna, & preciouslittle!**

**To all my old readers: **thank you all for sticking with me! Reading your reviews made my day. And don't worry, guys—we'll get through this story ;)

**GigiThECraZyxsilentAnna: **let's spread the Epik High love! I was actually listening to them while writing this chapter; I find their music helps me block out other sounds and concentrate on writing.

**Karmi: **I've missed you too! I'm so happy to be back, too; it feels great. Glad you liked the chapter *hugs*.

**sakR9: **The old chapters are in bad need of editing, and I agree with you about the long day. Once this story is done, I'll go back and combine the first 5-6 chapters into 2-3; I'll probably make some changes to them, too.


	16. Shelke, shady business, and come dancing

**Chapter 16: **_Shelke, shady business, and come dancing._

—

**A/N: **I don't own the song "Come Dancing". It belongs the more than awesome band, The Kinks.

Also, in Canada, the drinking age is 18 or 19 (depending on which province/territory). Just clearing that up in case I get questions about Cloud's comment in this chapter.

**As promised, I wrote an OC sheet. However, it turned out to be quite long, so instead of putting it at the end of this chapter, it's on my LJ. The link is on my profile, but I've added it here for good measure. You guys know the drill; remove the space between the words: psychedelikxx . livejournal . com**

—

"Are you _sure_?"

"Yes. For the hundredth time, yes."

"But _Tifa_. It's _Saturday_."

"I'm about to hang up on you."

Yuffie sniffed on the other end of the line, insulted. "Fine. Happy boring Saturday."

"You, too," Tifa said absentmindedly. She doubted it would be anything but boring.

A definitive _click_ was heard; Tifa put her phone back in her jeans pocket. Yuffie would be pissed for thirty minutes at most and then forget that Tifa hadn't gone shopping with her and Aerith. In reality, she was a tiny bit disappointed; shopping certainly wasn't on her black list and she did need some new clothes.

Walking the last stretch to Vincent's house wasn't exactly pleasant under the freezing drizzle. Stupid Cloud and his accurate weather predictions. She should have listened to him when he had said it would get colder soon.

She came to a stop in front of quaint little one-floor house. Frowning at the piece of paper on which Vincent's address was written, she determined she was at the right place. The ink was all smudged because of the rain, making the numbers hard to read. Shrugging, she rang the doorbell. If it wasn't the right house she would just call him. There was no answer; she was about to press the button again when she heard rapid footsteps. Vincent opened the door after some audible cussing. She understood why immediately.

He was wearing grey sweatpants, was barefoot, and his somewhat dirty shirt was put on backwards. His hair was framing his face messily; his glasses kept falling off his nose. It was the first time she had seen him with those.

"Did you just wake up?"

"Uh…What time is it, anyway?" He opened the door a little wider to let her inside. "I thought you were supposed to come later."

"It's two in the afternoon, Vincent."

That didn't seem to faze him. "Really?" He pushed his hair out of his eyes. It was growing longer again.

They stood staring at each other for moment. She could smell the alcohol that stained his shirt from here.

"Just—wait here. I'll go change." He took off before she could reply.

Tifa walked around as she waited. The place was very…bare. It was almost as if no one lived here. The living room was made up of one couch, a television, two mostly empty bookcases, and a table with a computer. No pictures were hung on the walls. She decided to stay standing up. Thankfully, he didn't take too long. When he came out of his room, he was properly dressed and his hair was tied back at the base of his neck. He still had his glasses on, though. She thought he looked cute with them; they softened his features.

"You want something to eat? I'm starving," he grumbled.

She followed him into an equally sparse kitchen and sat down on a stool at the counter. "I already ate, thanks."

He fished through the refrigerator, settling on some leftover pasta. They waited in silence as it warmed up in the microwave. Tifa couldn't help but frown. He was acting distant. He hadn't looked in her eyes once. She decided not to voice any of these remarks; she would wait and see.

Vincent suddenly broke the silence as he groaned and leaned his elbows on the counter in front of her and shoved his head in his hands. "Do we _really_ need to work today?"

"Well," she said haughtily, "we wouldn't if you had just shown to class. I lost count of the number times I told you that. I could be out shopping instead."

"Doesn't that sound fun." He was rarely sarcastic.

"What's up with you?"

He moved to get his meal as the alarm went off. "I'm just sorry you didn't go shopping."

"Oh, spare me that shit." She clenched her fists. "It's your fault."

He snorted. "Like you fucking did anything."

"I did! I did tons of research _and_ nagged the teacher so we could get those books. What did you do?"

"I went to see her."

He said it so matter-of-factly that it made her blood boil.

"Well, congrats on that! About fucking time."

He didn't answer, only shovelled food in his mouth.

"I obviously came here for nothing," she said coldly, getting up. His sigh stopped her.

"Alright. Sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you."

He finally looked at her; she could tell he meant his apology. She sat back down.

"What happened?"

He turned his back on her as he washed his dishes in the sink. "Stuff."

No way, she thought. Like she couldn't have guessed that by herself.

"Like what?"

"Like—like I went to see Lucrecia." And freaked out and drank myself to oblivion, she added to herself.

It didn't register straightaway that he and Miss Crescent were on first name basis.

"What did she say?"

"Uh… She's gonna help us. So we can get it done as soon as possible."

Tifa knew she wouldn't like what he was about to say next.

"Since she doesn't want other people to know about this, we'll go over to her house next weekend. Special treatment and all," he mumbled, _definitely_ avoiding her eyes now.

Tifa gave herself a few seconds to collect her thoughts. Then, "What the fuck?"

Vincent had totally been expecting her reaction. He raised his arms as if to calm her down. "Tifa—"

"_What the fuck?_ Why would she even do that? You're never there, we haven't gotten anything done, we…we…"

Great. What had she gotten mixed up with this time?

"You better explain," she muttered.

He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. But it seemed forced to her. "It'll take a long time."

"I don't care." And she really didn't. It was about time someone told her what was going on before she went crazy.

"'Kay." He sighed. "Something…big happened during my freshman year."

At those words, she instantly knew what this was going to be about. Cloud was a year older than she and Vincent; he would have been a sophomore, then. The same year he had failed. The same year he and Denzel had gone to live with Elmyra.

She was strangely taken aback. That was all? No more nagging on her part, and one less lingering mystery about that spiky-haired part-time jerk; two for the price of one. She did remember Vincent promising that he would tell her one day, but she hadn't truly believed him. She wondered when she had become such a cynic.

Vincent saw the realization in her eyes. "Before I tell you, you gotta promise me—don't be mad at Cloud," he said softly. "There's two sides to a story."

She nodded. She would see about that.

He didn't continue right away; instead, he got them water to drink. She thanked him. He drank too quickly.

"Lucrecia…she had a sister that was my age. Her name was Shelke…"

—

"_Everyone, we have a new student today. This is her first year in Nibelheim. It's Shelke Crescent, right?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Alright, sweetie, why don't you take a seat next to—let's see…Ah, next to Vincent. Over there. There you go, sweetie. Now, let's begin class."_

—

She waited for him to go on. His still laces less shoes seemed to engross him.

"We become good friends. She was shy around strangers, but once you got to know her it all disappeared. She was nice. Became a wolf, if that even matters to you. Eventually, we got paired up for a project. It was dumb. We were given questions to answer about ourselves. It needed to be filmed.

"It was all going fine, but there was one part of the project we had to film individually. I did mine, then went over to her house so we could finish everything else. It was due the next day. Shelke, she hadn't done her individual part. I left her with the camera that night and went home."

Tifa's heart beat so fast she thought it would burst out of her ribcage. She had an idea how the story ended.

"I came back the next morning. You know, to tie up the loose ends. Lucrecia let me in. Shelke…she was dead. I went to get the camera in her room and found her. I didn't go to school, I just headed home."

He had striped his voice of emotions, and it scared Tifa a bit.

"That night, I charged the camera. It was stupid, but I wanted to, you know, hear her voice again."

—

_He rewound the tape to the last part they had filmed together. Their answers were goofy and they were trying their best not to laugh (_I was born there and moved here and I have a dog and three cats and I love to eat popcorn and I love long walks on the beach even though I've never been to the beach_). _

_It suddenly cut to Shelke's face as she positioned the camera on her dresser. _

"_That looks alright. Maybe a bit to the left," she mumbled. _

_She had always fussed over details like that. It had driven him mad._

_The phone rang in the background. Shelke sighed, and he could her say, "Crap, I'll have to film over that," as she exited. _

_For a few minutes, the same shot of Shelke's room played. Vincent was about to fast-forward when he saw a shadow move across the wall. _

_He paused the video. He knew what was about to happen. _

_Finally, he pressed play. He could only watch for a while before he had to run to the bathroom and vomit. _

—

"Did you…" Tifa found herself unable to finish her sentence.

"Yeah." She had to strain her ears to catch what he was saying. "I had no clue what to do. Fucking freaked out. I didn't want to go to school because I was afraid to leave my house. I fucking _knew_, Tifa," he chuckled a little hysterically. "What the hell was I supposed to do?

"After a few days…they decided it had to be me. I had the only piece of evidence with me. Cloud learned about it the day before they decided they would announce it. Zack has a brother who used to live here and work as a policeman."

—

_Cloud and Zack had been playing video games when Angeal came in, a box full of his belongings in his arms; he was scheduled to move to Midgar the next day for his transfer. Both teens said 'hi' without looking away from the TV screen. Angeal put the box down on the ground and sat next to his brother on the couch._

"_Hey, minibro, you know about what happened to Shelke Crescent?"_

_Zack glanced at him quickly before returning to his game. "Not much. The only released details were that she was found dead in her house."_

_Angeal nodded. "They didn't find much, so that's why for now they're trying to keep it under wraps. I offered to stay a few more days to help. Chief told me it was fine. I wish I could have helped them."_

_This prickled Cloud's attention. "They found the guy?"_

"_Sort of. I hope they're wrong but so far he's really the only possible culprit. I can't believe a kid like that can be so twisted." Angeal let himself fall back in the couch, looking exhausted. _

_Zack frowned. A kid? "Are you, you know, allowed to tell us what happened?"_

_His brother groaned. "I guess. Chief doesn't want to make a mistake so he's taking his time. Things like that don't happen often here." He paused. "Miss Crescent—she was raped, then…well, I'll just say it wasn't a pretty sight. With those kind of injuries, she was lucky not to survive."_

"_You mean she didn't die on the spot?" Cloud felt sick._

"_No. Probably an hour or two before they found her."_

"_Fuck…"_

_Angeal didn't bother to correct his brother like he usually would have. "Tell me about it. I seriously hope they're wrong about this Valentine guy."_

_A silence followed before Zack paused the game._

"_What?"_

—

"I went to school two days after, and it didn't take long for everything to blow up. I tried to talk to Cloud; I wanted to tell him what I had found out, but he didn't want anything to do with me. At the time, I didn't know why, so I kept pestering him. He snapped. Said I wasn't part of the elite anymore."

Tifa had been holding her breath, and she released it in one long sigh. That was the 'misunderstanding' Cloud had hinted about. How Vincent had done something he couldn't forgive, something that wasn't his fault in the end.

"Why?"

A disheartened shrug. "He thought I was lying to him to save myself. Something like that."

"But…he was your best friend, no?"

She only just realized that they were whispering, as if they were afraid of being overheard.

"I told you, there's two sides to a story. Cloud was going through a lot with his family at the time. He's always been going through at lot with them," Vincent said bitterly. "He _really_ snapped. It was too much, I guess."

He got himself another glass of water, but it stayed untouched on the counter.

"We got into a fight." He snorted and shook his head. "If you could call that a fight. I didn't do shit. Just laid there. Aerith didn't know anything and she jumped in to stop him. He hit her by accident. That made him stop. I got outside to avoid Shinra and hung around. I kinda gathered that the police had framed me, even thought Cloud hadn't mentioned anything about that. When it was around lunchtime, I saw Zack leave the school."

—

"_Zack! Zack, wait up!"_

_Vincent walked quickly towards him in case he decided to head back inside and ignore him. But there was no need to worry; Zack stayed where he was. His eyes widened when Vincent finally reached him._

"_Fuck, he got you good. You look like shit."_

_Something loosened inside Vincent, and he knew he still had a chance to explain everything._

"_Zack, I didn't do _anything_. You have to believe me. I can prove it."_

_Zack raised his eyebrows. "Really? Why didn't you go to the police, then?"_

_Vincent took a deep breath. "I'll show you."_

_Hesitation flickered over his friend's features. He threw a glance at the school entrance._

"_Alright. I'll come with you."_

—

"Wait, wait, wait a second. Zack _knows_ you're innocent?" Tifa almost shouted.

Zack fucking knew?

For the first time since she had gotten here, Vincent let out a genuine laugh. "Yeah. He was glad it wasn't me, obviously. You should have seen him. He said he would take care of Cloud, of the police through his brother, of everything. That I would get my place in the elite again."

"But you didn't."

"More like didn't want to. I think he understood why. He told everyone I was the leader of the ravens, which doesn't mean anything actually, except that people leave me alone when I want to. And that Zack can come talk to me without looking too suspicious. Everyone just thinks we're talking 'business'." He rolled his eyes.

Tifa's head was spinning with everything she had just learned. Now she really missed her boring life in Midgar.

"Cloud—"

"Cloud didn't want to know anything for a while. Zack came to see me two weeks later saying he would eventually come around."

And instead he had run away, Tifa thought.

"So, did Zack take care of everything like he said?"

Vincent stayed silent for a while. "Yeah. Yeah, he did."

—

After a week of spending her lunch period in the library, the stillness of it was driving her mad. It was almost empty, which was expected considering the beautiful weather outside—one of the last sunny days of the season. Most people were probably hanging out on the school grounds for lunch, and the elite had to be amongst them. Her friends, or so she kept telling herself. Groaning inwardly, Tifa let her head fall against the bookshelf she was browsing through. How was it that every single time she thought she had this issue solved, something happened that made her doubt? How did that saying go again? One step forward, two giant steps back. Right.

From the start, she had been sure that, when she would eventually discover what caused Vincent and Cloud to drift apart, she would end up avoiding both of them. She hadn't counted on avoiding all of the elite. But she couldn't repress the edgy feeling that kept growing in her gut whenever she saw them. It was hard to tell if Reno had noticed she wouldn't meet his eyes all week, but Zack definitely had when he stopped to chat with her in the hallway in-between classes today.

It made her want to scream, or sigh, or run away, or all of these. _Here she goes, keeping away from us, _they would say soon; _why are we even friends with her?_

Still, despite all the uneasiness, she was relieved to know the truth. Part of it, at least; she could tell there were more mystery shrouding Nibelheim and the elite, but she was satisfied for now. The less she knew, the better. For now.

It wasn't hard to put two and two together: Zack, and by extension the elite, weren't bothered by the police because of his brother and because he had revealed whom the murdered had been. Nibelheim was, after all, a small town; as long as the trouble didn't escalate into total chaos, she supposed the police would let their antics' slide.

Her phone vibrated, signalling an incoming text message. It was Zack, asking her to meet them near the school's entrance. She debated with herself, but easily gave in. The silent library really was oppressing. Plus, she couldn't keep on staying away forever.

Even though the sun shone bright, it was windy outside, dropping the temperature by several degrees. Tifa adjusted her scarf tighter around her neck, and buried her hands in her jacket's pockets. She passed one girl wearing shorts, and couldn't help but stare at her—_go ahead and get pneumonia, sweetheart._

She spotted Reno's flaming red hair first, then Cloud's chocobo head. The latter was sitting on a picnic table, and he saw her before the others. He gave her a smile that made her heart constrict. She decided she wouldn't tell him what she had learned; she couldn't bear to have him furious at her again.

"Well, look who finally showed up," Reno drawled, getting up and drawing an arm over her shoulders. She willed herself not to shrug him off.

Her discomfort must not have been as well hidden as she wanted since Cloud reached out, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her next to him. She climbed on the table, putting down her heavy shoulder bag at her feet.

"What's in that thing?" He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "Looks like it weights a ton."

"That's because it does," she mumbled. "I've been doing research for a project all week." That was true at least.

"The one with—the one for, uh…"

"French."

"The one for French, yeah. What's it about?"

Tifa pulled out a hair tie, and messily put her hair in a ponytail. Almost instantly, she wanted to let it down again; Zack's unblinking, analytical stare was even harder to disregard now that she felt more exposed.

"Um, the history of French language. It's a bitch. None of you had this class before? The teacher's Miss Crescent."

As soon as she said this, she realized what a stupid question it was. They must have been avoiding all possible classes with Miss Crescent. From the corner of her eyes, she could see Cloud starting to play with his ring; the tension was rolling off his shoulders. Unconsciously, she covered her hand with his, stopping his movements. Silence fell down over the group. She quickly pulled her hand back. To her embarrassment, she could sense her cheeks redden. First, the handholding, now this? They were definitely heading for Rumourland.

"It drives me crazy when you do that."

His surprised expression was so honest that her bashfulness flew out of the window, and she laughed.

"Aw," Zack said good-naturally, "you made him speechless."

Aerith dug an elbow in her boyfriend's ribs. He only chuckled, but didn't add anything, although his annoying smile didn't vanish.

Reno leaned forward, hands in his pockets. "Anyway, you coming tonight?"

Tifa turned to him, her face blank. Was she supposed to be somewhere other than her house tonight? She had no souvenir of any kind of invitation.

Her obvious confusion had Reno turn his eyes heavenwards. "You've really paid attention to me this week, haven't you," he deadpanned.

She gave him a sheepish grin. If only he knew. "Sorry."

He mock-sighed. "There's a party tonight. I told you about that on Wednesday."

Now that he mentioned it, she had a vague recollection of that. But then again, she had been too busy trying not to meet Highwind's inquiring gaze. She was ready to bet Cid was waiting for the right moment to corner her for an interrogation.

In any case, the last thing she was in the mood for was, hands down, a party. Not a fan of them in the place, people drunkenly bumping into each other all night seemed like the worst thing she could endure this evening. She scrunched up her nose in distaste at the thought.

"I'll pass on that, thanks."

"C'mon! We barely saw you this week. Make-up time, eh? Whaddya say?"

"No thanks." She rested back on her hands. She exchanged an amused look with Aerith. There was no denying she had been a bit lonely these past days.

"You'll be the only one not going, you'll see," he grumbled, kicking an invisible pebble.

Zack still had a smile plastered on his face. He winked in Tifa's direction. "Excuse the change in subjects, but can you come with me, Tifa? I need some help to navigate in the library. I'll even carry your bag."

"He's never put a foot in there," Aerith added for good measure.

Tifa immediately became suspicious. She glanced at Cloud, half-expecting him to advise her; he was busy texting. From where she was, she could see he was sending a message to Jordan. She could change subjects, too!

"Oh, tell Jordan I miss him," she said rather loudly. She cringed internally. Subtle, she was not.

"Alright," Cloud replied slowly, continuing to type. "You know…" His eyes furtively shifted to Zack, and if she had blinked, Tifa would have missed it. "You can come eat with me and the guys, if you want."

Be the only girl at a table of guys? Eh…

"Maybe."

"I'll make sure they don't tease you again." She was starting to think he might be able to read her mind. Sneaky bastard.

"Jordan doesn't even eat with you," Zack interjected. He was standing in front of them.

Cloud finally lifted his head from his phone. For a moment, Tifa thought he would just agree and let the matter go. She noticed the muscles in his jaw tighten, but he was looking over Zack's shoulder.

"If Tifa wants, we'll go eat with him and Elliott. Or I'll tell him to come to my table. It's not complicated."

And she understood, then, how strong the impact of their fight last week had been on him_. _Two weeks ago, he would have stayed quiet. She had the sudden impulse to grab his hand in encouragement. Instead, she settled for a soft, "Thanks." He lowered his gaze to what she first believed was his phone again, but he was really staring at the ground. Zack didn't seem to notice; he just stood there, waiting for her.

She got to her feet. "Are you coming, Zack?"

His smile got wider. "Yes, yes. Let's go." Like promised, he picked up her heavy bag, his eyes widening at the weight of it. "Damn." That would serve him right.

"Later, guys," she called. Her gaze lingered on Cloud as she left, and she found herself disappointed when he didn't move or say anything.

They walked towards the school relatively quickly, with Zack leading the pace. Once they were inside, he slowed down.

"Sorry about that." He did sound apologetic.

"What do you really want?" Her voice was wary. She had been right to be suspicious.

"You could tell," he stated cheerfully. He directed them towards her Science classroom; she decided against inquiring how he knew where to go.

"It wasn't exactly subtle. And I really don't believe you've never been in the library."

That made him laugh. "It's the truth!"

She only shrugged. "So?"

"Reno was wrong. I'm not going either. Ah, he's gonna be so mad. We're such party-poopers." He gave her one of his blinding smiles.

"_Now_ I'm even more suspicious, Zack."

They stopped close to Hojo's classroom. Two students stood at the other end of the hall, also talking.

"I'm just inviting you to a friendly supper." Even though his demeanour didn't change, his tone lost some of its carefreeness. "I'd like us to talk."

There was no doubt in her mind what had happened. "You've talked to Vincent."

"I have."

"And we can't have this 'talk' now?"

"You don't want to test my cooking skills?"

She sputtered at this. "You _cook_?"

"Not really. That was a bribe."

"Not working, Zack."

"Hm…" He rubbed his chin, pretending to be thinking deeply. "Is pizza good enough?"

"How about…you come over and eat with my Dad and I? He's been bugging me about meeting my new friends, anyway."

On the spot, he seemed taken aback, but his expression briskly morphed into one of genuine happiness. "And here I was, starting to think you didn't like me."

Tifa didn't know what to say. The playfulness was clearly detectable in his words, and yet, it had hit closer to home than he would ever know.

She could only strip her voice of any nervousness, and reply with a smile on the corner of her lips. "Nonsense. Come over at seven?"

He raised his hand for a high-five. "It's a date."

—

The table was set already. Tifa couldn't hide her surprised expression at this—her father was obviously eager to see one of her friend. She leaned against the kitchen doorframe and watched him cook. He was humming an old rock song.

"When is he bound to get here? It's nearly ready."

"At around seven. He should be there"—the doorbell rang—"right now."

Her father immediately lowered the heat under the pan and made for the door. "I'll get it," he said firmly.

Tifa moved out of the way, dreading what was to come. She hadn't thought about her father's reaction when he would learn that a _boy_ was joining them for dinner. Being the first of her new set of acquaintances he would meet, Zack would be subject to an interrogation, which was only made worse by the fact that he was a guy. Even so, she hadn't anticipated her father's earnestness

Mr Lockheart wiped his hand on his apron, stood tall, and coughed to clear his throat before opened the door wide. _Go ahead, try to intimidate Zack Fair_. She could imagine the frown that marred his features.

"Hello."

In no way unsettled, Zack presented his hand to shake with his trademark charismatic smile. "Hello, Mr Lockheart."

Well, at least he would make a good impression. He was bound to spend an unpleasant hour regardless.

"Hey, Zack," she said from where she was standing. He waved.

She made introductions rather swiftly, and her father went back in the kitchen to adjust the finishing touches to their dinner. Zack slid next to her, a sneaky grin on display.

"I think he likes me," he whispered.

She glanced at him sideways. "Don't sound so excited."

"It's a first for me. Parents never like me."

"Really?" She was actually surprised. "I thought it was only Elmyra."

"Aerith told you that? Yeah, she hates me. Dunno why."

"Seriously?" She said, disbelief laced through her voice. On one hand, it _was_ hard to think people didn't take a liking to Zack; but on the other, it was completely plausible. "Maybe it's because you're a bad influence."

He nudged her teasingly. "I am not."

Sure, she thought, you only throw wild parties, organize gratuitous fights, deal drugs, have control over the school, and who knows what else. Not a bad influence at all, nope. Totally recommendable to your kids.

They sat down to eat, initially making small talk. Mr Lockheart proceeded with his series of questions that had Tifa roll her eyes. How old are you? What do your parents do? Do you like Nibelheim? She was cleaning the plates off the table when he asked, "How did you meet Tifa?" She snorted, the memory of her first day at school flashing in her mind. Surely, he would want to know of Nibelheim High's hierarchy and where she was currently placed.

Zack opened his mouth, hesitated, and answered a half-truth. "She was talking to my friend on the first day. We kinda kept bumping into each other all day after that."

His response could have been anything; Mr Lockheart barely waited for him to finish before jumping to a new question. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

Oh, Gaia. That was the part she had dreaded all evening.

"Yes, sir. She's your daughter's friend, too."

"So you don't have any shady intentions—"

"Woah, Dad," Tifa cut in, fearing that if he started, they would still be here come morning. "Zack's just a friend, and not my type, anyway." Carefully, she signalled at Zack to get up and follow her. "We'll be going for a walk and hang out with friends, okay? Don't wait up."

Even thought she was certain he wouldn't protest, she still hurried up and didn't give him time to answer. Strangely, he was trying his best not to laugh, as opposed to dismissing her as he might have before moving here. Working less really was operating a miracle on him.

Ever polite, Zack walked up to her father after shrugging his jacket on. "It was a pleasure, Mr Lockheart."

"Likewise," her Dad grunted.

As she went to fetch her leather jacket and scarf, she replayed the scene in her head. The look of genuine happiness on Zack's face as she had invited him, his eagerness at meeting her father, it all made her reflect on if she had been too hard on him. No matter all the unethical things he did—in the end, she could tell he was a good guy. And he didn't deserve her passive hostility, her avoidance. None of the members of the elite did. There she went again, one step forward. Snidely, she wondered when the two steps back would be.

Their walk began in silence, and neither seemed willing to break it. They were going in direction of the school, but soon drifted towards the eastern part of town, which was a residential area through and through. A few kids were still playing in the street.

Tifa racked her brain to find anything to say that would spark a conversation. Usually, talking to Zack was no problem; he tended to do most of the talking, and she had only to follow along. This time, however, his expression bordered on solemn—his mouth was tightly shut. She suspected he was waiting on her to make the first move, maybe to let her decide if she really wanted to plunge into the heart subject or make insignificant small talk first. She sighed.

"Alright, let's go."

A deep chuckle. "It's not much fun for me either."

"Then, let's get the unpleasant business out of the way. What exactly did Vince tell you?"

"I'm more interested in what he told _you_."

And they were back to dancing around the subject. "Cut the crap."

"Sure, sure." He let his voice trail. "He said he explained what went on with Shelke; about the camera, and all that."

"Yeah."

"That's it?"

"Pretty much. He said he showed you the video and you took care of everything else." _Except Cloud_.

Zack ruffled the hair at the back of his head rather roughly. "Aw, man! That's so troublesome." He stretched his arms above his head. He was smiling again.

"Did you 'take care of everything' like you promised?"

"Of course I did. You should know by now you can trust me." He winked.

For some reason, his words amplified her already increasing doubts. "Uh-uh. And what do you mean by troublesome, anyway?"

"Ah…It's just, you know, troublesome."

She hit him gently with on the shoulder. "You can just say it, Mister. You wanted to keep me in the dark, didn't you?"

It was a wild guess, but she could tell it was right by his defeated look; he could be so transparent.

"Yup. It's because—and don't tell her I told you or she'll skin me alive—but it's because of Yuffie." He abruptly came to a stop, and sat down on the curb. She did the same.

"Right, she wasn't here three years ago. What happened with her?" Tifa rested her head on her knees.

"She's just fifteen."

"Wha—"

"And she was even younger when she learned everything. She started dating Reno really quickly. One day she was staying over, and she woke up in the middle of the night; Reno was talking to me on the phone." He seemed lost in his own world, with his head hung down a tiny bit, his back slouched, and she was suddenly struck how much he and Cloud were alike sometimes.

"You were talking about Shelke?"

"No. Other stuff, but it was as suspicious."

"Was it your drug dealing?"

He threw her a sideway glance. "You know about that?"

"I saw you." It was likely better to leave it at that.

"I'll be more careful next time," he mumbled distractedly. "But, yeah, Yuffie. She overheard us and apparently she thought it was cool at first. Like a movie, or something. We all figured the best way to get her to shut up would be to include her. We told her _everything_." He shook his head. "It began with nightmares, then she turned paranoid, she didn't trust anyone she met. You know, she was really sheltered before coming here. She's just fifteen," he said again.

To Tifa, the regret he felt over this topic was evident, even if he was trying his best not to show it openly. She had always noticed how the elite treated Yuffie kind of differently—more like a little sister than a friend.

"Why was she so afraid, though?" A few strands of hair fell in front of her face. She pushed them back behind her ear. She nearly missed the fleeting flash of disgust that twisted his features. _What was _that _about?_

"Well, it hadn't been a full year since Shelke had died. We dumped all this mess on her, she had just been separated from her family, all that." He raised his voice, making Tifa jump, "Man, we're such bad friends!" He let out a loud laugh.

Tifa averted her eyes. "No, you're not."

He leaned back on his hands. "Yeah. Yeah, we are. You think so, too. That's why you keep avoiding us. It's okay," he added, still chuckling, "I don't blame you."

"I don't _want_ to avoid you guys. But you all act like it's the most natural thing in the world for you to get away with everything—_why_ do you get away with everything?"

She could see his answer coming a mile away.

"Magic."

"Oh my god, you're all so frustrating. It's that your standard reply?"

Zack flicked her forehead playfully. "That's as far as you go, Miss Lockheart. I can't have you learn all of my deepest, darkest secrets, can I?"

She glared at him.

"Believe me," he said while getting to his feet, "the less you know, the better."

Didn't that sound familiar. Even Zack wanted her to follow her own advice.

"I guess so," she grunted, also standing up.

"Hey, I'm only saying that because that's what I think is best for you. But I have a question, if you don't mind."

"Sure, go ahead," she replied, puzzled.

"Do you know Scarlet? I mean, before you got here. Did you know her?"

Great, the Queen Bitch. Her favourite subject.

"Hell no."

"She's really out to get you. That time at the clash, and on the first day, too. I was just wondering. She knew about your mom."

Tifa froze. "Well, uh, I don't know. I have my theory, other than she's a fucking bitch." He waited for her to carry on. "My mother was…special."

He frowned. "What do you mean by that? Tifa?" He added when she stayed silent.

"She was a whore, alright? My parents were always fighting and she'd come live most of the year here and sleep around. I think she might have slept with Scarlet's dad or something like that."

"Oh, that sorta makes sense." Zack nodded. "Her parents are divorced. Apparently her dad's a big flirt so tha—"

A constant buzzing interrupted him. They both stood still a second, confused, until Zack retrieved his phone from his pocket. He grimaced. "Here we go." He pressed a button to answer the call, but kept the phone in front of him. Tifa tilted her head to the side, glad for the change in topic, but also curious about his actions. A deafening shout of, "Where the fuck are you!" was her immediate answer. Poor Reno.

"Don't yell," was all Zack said, bringing the phone to his ear. "No. I'm with Tifa, yeah. Now? I guess. Later. Shit," he sighed after ending his little chat. "Change of plans."

Tifa knew her distaste was plainly obvious, and she didn't attempt to hide it. She could simply turn back and head home.

"I'll be on my way, then." She raised her hand to wave him goodbye, but stopped midway at his surprised expression.

"What are you talking about? You're coming with me. Wait here, I'll go check where we are."

He jogged across the sidewalk to the nearest corner to look at the street names. Tifa stayed rooted in her spot, indecisive. On one hand, she wanted to go back and continue working on her French project before their upcoming meeting with Miss Crescent this Sunday. On the other, she wanted to stay with Zack. Granted, Reno's party wasn't anywhere on her list, but she supposed that it was fine as long as their unplanned visit was short. Perhaps she could find some people she knew and drag them outside if Zack really wanted to stay.

"Alright," Zack said as he approached her. "We're, like, two streets away."

She had a hunch that this was all one of his sneaky plans. They began walking. In less than five minutes, they came in sight of a house with many, many cars parked close; the music became louder and louder as they neared it. A few students were scattered in front. Right when they entered, Tifa felt some of the tension roll off her shoulders. From where she was the majority of the people were visible, and she recognized quite a number of familiar faces, although most of them weren't people she would usually hang out with. The elite would probably be locked in a room having a top-secret meeting.

She turned to Zack. "When should we meet up to leave?"

"Wow, you already want to get out?" She took it as a good sign that he didn't have to yell over the music. Her eardrums were safe. "How about I text you in an hour?"

One hour was good. "Sure. Get to your shady business."

The smile he gave her as he disappeared in the crowd was blinding. He was back to normal.

Now alone, she devised a plan. She headed left for what she believed would be the direction of the kitchen. The house wasn't as crowded as she had expected, which made her navigation through the mass of bodies much easier. A group of guys were lingering around the entryway to the kitchen, and among them she recognized Scott…and Donovan. No way she was going there, then.

"Where to go," she muttered, her voice drowned by the noise.

She retraced her steps a few feet, finally spotting a hallway that was mostly empty. It led to a remotely quiet room that had to be a living room. There was a small band of people laughing on one side of the room and two guys talking on the other. Tifa closed her eyes, unsure whether she was relieved or exasperated. Of course, he would be there.

He was resting against the wall, and at first she thought it was for comfort, but when he tried to stand up straight only to fall back as she approached him, she understood. He was completely drunk. If that wasn't enough to make her reach that conclusion, the huge, goofy grin he gave her confirmed it.

"Hey," he drawled. "Thought you weren't coming." He jerked his head at his companion, who left without a word. "Bye."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Zack dragged me. Reno was being a bitch about him not being there."

"Zack dragged you?"

"Yes, Zack dragged me. Aren't you guys having some sort of meeting, anyway?"

"No. No. I don't think so. No." She raised her eyebrows. Oh, boy.

"You're drunk."

"Nah."

"Yes, you are, Cloud."

"Maybe." He raised his plastic cup as if to salute her. "Can't remember. I hope I am."

She rubbed her palm against her forehead. "Why don't you give me that."

"Can't do. You can't drink. I can." He drank what was left in one gulp, then stilled. "Oh, I know that song."

Tifa concentrated on what was playing in the background; she recognized the melody of an old rock song, but that was all. Cloud let his cup fall to the ground, and grabbed her hands. He was grinning. "Come dancing."

"What?" She was so taken aback by his unexpected action that she didn't struggle. He tugged her to the middle of the room, stumbling; it almost made her fall, but she managed to regain her balance.

"C'mon. Come dancing."

And by dancing, Tifa discovered, he meant stand facing each other and move their linked arms back and forth; it reminded her a bit of an old dance style she had seen in movies, although greatly watered down.

When he opened his mouth next, she could only gape at him.

"Come dancing; all her boyfriends used to come and call. Why not come dancing; it's only natural?" He sang rather off-key, though she didn't have the heart to let him know. "Come dancing; that's how they did it when I was just a kid." He twirled her around once, twice.

She finally caved in and laughed. "What's up with you?"

"H-how does it go next?"

"Eh?"

"The lyrics. I can't remember." Another twirl.

She chuckled again. "It's okay. You don't have to sing anymore."

"Okay."

They continued their improvised dance for another minute or so. He was staring at a point behind her shoulder, and she noticed that he wasn't as tall as she had always believed him to be. It reminded her that he wasn't always a tough guy who ruled the school; he was a guy who was considered an outsider, who blamed himself for his mother's death; a guy who needed to hold her hand in order to confirm their friendship, for comfort, for support.

"Hey, Cloud…" She stopped moving. His glassy eyes drifted to her.

"Yeah?"

"Are you drunk because I know about what happened between you and Vincent?"

"Yeah."

"You didn't want me to know?"

"Yeah."

"Don't you want to see him again?"

"Yeah."

She was starting to think he had transformed into Mr. One-Word Vocabulary and replied without thinking.

"How about…what happened to your mother?"

She felt a little guilty, weaselling answers out of him while he was drunk, but she knew this occasion wasn't likely to repeat itself anytime soon.

"She died."

Awesome. Even drunk he was slightly on guard.

"What kind of person was she?" Tifa tried to get him to dance again, hoping his good mood would return. This time, he stayed put. She let his hands fall.

"She was a crazy bitch."

"_Excuse me_?" She was ready to bet her eyes were popping out of their sockets. After all this angst over the issue, this was _not_ near anything she had anticipated from him.

He shrugged. "She was crazy. Mad. Mental. A lunatic. And she was a bitch. S-so she was a crazy bitch."

Tifa was speechless.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" He brought his hand to head and closed his eyes as if he was in pain. "Ugh, I feel sick." She could tell he was faking his sudden headache.

She didn't react immediately. Instead, she let out a vaguely frenzied laugh. _I can't believe it. Are you so determined not to say anything that, even drunk, you'll find a way to steer clear of the conversation? That you'll blatantly lie to me to run away?_

Deep down, she knew it was better this way. If he had spilled his guts while drunk, there would have been greater chances of him cutting contact with her afterward than of him facing the situation. If he had been sober, he wouldn't have been as obvious with his avoidance of the subject; he would probably left the room before it could have even been brought up.

"Tifa," he whined, blindly groping for her hand, "it hurts. My head."

She was very tempted to leave him all alone in his pathetic state, go find Zack and head back home. But she let him hold her hand again, and guided him toward the only couch in the room.

"Lay down," she said coldly.

She took out her cellphone as he did like she had told him. Twenty minutes or so had gone by. She sat on the ground, next to the couch, not having much choice as he was still clutching her right hand in his own. She let her head fall against the sofa.

She groaned. "What am I going to do with you?"

Cloud twisted on his side to face her, probably disregarding what she had said as trivial in his drunken state. His headache seemed to have mysteriously vanished.

"So Zack dragged you here?"

This again? "Yes."

"That's cute."

"What's cute?" She sighed, getting frustrated.

"Nothing. Nothing's cute."

"Okay."

He tugged on a strand of her hair in a way that made her think of a child seeking attention. "Why are you angry?"

"Because you're being stubborn."

"Wha-at?"

"Let's just…drop it, Cloud. And stop messing up my hair." He had wrapped up the strand around his finger, and it pulled her head backwards in an uncomfortable way. He let go.

"I like your hair. It's long."

"Thank you."

Silence. Then, "My mom had short hair."

She wondered if he saying this because he didn't want her to be mad at him.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Up to there." He poked her jawline. Cloud the Drunk was such a talkative person. And awfully touchy-feely.

"You know, I always imagined her to look like you."

He smiled awkwardly. "But not like a chocobo?"

"Of course not," she laughed. Sober Cloud would have _never_ joked about his hair like this.

"T-that's good. She was pretty."

She allowed the conversation to die from the silence. After five minutes had gone by, she glanced at Cloud; he was asleep. She shifted around to get more at ease, sitting with her back to the couch. She could feel Cloud's rhythmic breathing on her neck.

She gave their intertwined hands a little shake to see if his grip would loosen. No luck.

"And you wouldn't even let me go," she mumbled. "So I'm stuck here, eh…"

Another five minutes passed and she was getting bored. Deciding his little reunion would be over by now, she texted Zack clumsily, only having her left hand at her disposal.

_I'm in the small living room. I'm bored. _

He didn't write back. She was considering calling him when he appeared.

"Oh, man, what a sight." He was, as per usual, grinning from ear to ear. "I think I should take a picture."

"Shut up," she grumbled. "He was drunk and fell asleep."

Zack came to crouch next to her. She could see he was trying not to laugh. "He's such a baby when he drinks. Hey, wonderkid," he raised his voice, "Tifa wants her hand back."

"Can't you wake him up more nicely?" She hissed, shoving him weakly.

"Hey, shouting's the best way. He's awake, anyway. Cloud! Dude!"

Cloud turned to lie on his back, covering his eyes with his available hand.

"Fuck off."

Well, if he had a headache now it was doubtless real.

"Tifa and I'd like to leave. I gotta get her home before the old man freaks out."

"He won't," she added needlessly.

"So just leave."

Zack rolled his eyes. "Sure. As soon as you give her hand back."

"What?" He looked at them, as if finally noticing that they were truly there. Tifa's hand was free straightaway. "Sorry."

"Good morning," she deadpanned. The mix of his sleepy and confused expression was too good for words. "I'm kidding. It's like nine thirty."

He grunted and closed his eyes again. She guessed he meant it as a dismissal of sort. She got to her feet, dusting off her clothes.

Zack kicked the couch. "You gonna be alright, man?"

When it became clear he wouldn't get more than a grunt from Cloud, Zack gave her small push towards the hallway. "Let's go," he said.

"You think he's going to be fine?" Tifa asked once they were outside. She wasn't that worried for his state now—no, her anxiety concerned what would happen _after_ he realized what he had told her tonight.

"Reno'll take care of him."

"That's supposed to cheer me up? He'll probably be twice as wasted."

"Aw, come one; the guy knows his limits. He'll be fine. He's always fine."

Tifa's heart skipped a beat. _No, he's not_.

—

**A/N: **Oh my god, I am crazy. I am crumbling under a towering pile of homework, yet I spent all this day (and night) finishing this chapter. Doesn't help that it's the longest I've ever written (even longer than chapter 9!). And I think I'm spoiling you with all the hand holding, haha. Makes up for the previous 13 chapters.

I know this chapter was really long, but I needed to get all this stuff out of the way. Look forward to the next chapter (for which I already have at least 10 pages written, hohoho!). It's time for the story to finally take off.

A big thank you:  
**Iris Irine, JukedSolid, BananaPeaceMonkeyKarmi, xPhiieebeex-ayannaaki, Lord Divestre Croft, FinalxFenrir7, GigiThECraZyxsilentAnna, lunalou, kickstartmyhart, demonegg, FairHannabi, One Of A Beautiful Kind, Awesom3-0 900, Downtherabithole, myrthill, & Ciara-Dragon!**

FAQ!

_**Q: The wolves remind me of SOLDIER**_.

_A: _Not really a question, but I'm glad they do. It was intended that way.

**Karmi: **Well, obviously it's a while after, but I'm quite happy it made your day :)

**Gigi**: I'm sorry, but I'm calling you that from now on since your username is so long! To be honest, I just put all of their albums on shuffle. Although recently Paranoia Pt.3 (from their High Society album) puts me in a writing mood for some reason. What about you?

**Ciara-Dragon**: Thanks! It's nice to have a long review once in a while, haha. About the international issue, it's okay; I totally understand. I'm not from the USA either, and the school system I'm used to (from Quebec) is so different that I probably made tons of mistake depicting an American one. I wrote about what I knew from movies and books; my high school was the completely opposite, lol. Also, the part with her in a closet is a flashback (which is linked with the nightmares she mentioned last chapter in her notebook). The 10 minutes thing is probably a mistake on my part, though. I'll investigate it ;)

**demonegg**: Aren't you surprised with this update, yo? I am, haha.


	17. blood II, soccer, and doubts I

**Chapter 17: **_blood II, soccer, and doubts_

—

**A/N: **_Tout vient à point à ceux qui savent attendre_ basically translates from French as 'Everything comes to those who wait'.

—

They had agreed on setting Miss Crescent's house as their rendezvous point after arguing for nearly ten minutes over the phone. Tifa suspected Vincent would be late on purpose; he wouldn't want to be alone with their teacher for any longer than needed. She hadn't questioned him about the touchy subject since last week. Their conversations in Science class were no different than before, and although he sometimes gave her an overture to ask away, she didn't take it. _Tout vient à point à ceux qui savent attendre_. Or something like that. She had been studying her French-English dictionary recently. She refused to let the teacher think she _really_ needed that special treatment to pass the course—she could use her own abilities.

In any case, she decided as she rang the doorbell of the small one-floor house, although torturing Vincent could be fun, it wasn't necessary. Her cellphone indicated it was 15:42. She was nearly twenty minutes early. If possible, she would get the books before Vincent came, and then they would leave together to work on their paper. She had already done quite a bit of research this last week, so everything was bound to go swiftly and smoothly for once.

Tifa rang the doorbell again, then knocked. Did Miss Crescent really have to pick this time to run an errand? She sat on the steps in front of the door, only to jump back to her feet. There was a car parked in front of the garage.

"Miss Crescent?" She called out while trying the doorknob. It was unlocked, so she pushed the door open. She had quickly learned that it wasn't unusual for people in Nibelheim not to lock their doors while they were inside their houses; in Midgar, no one would even dream of doing that.

Tifa hesitated once inside. The teacher was probably just taking a shower or taking a nap, and she didn't want to surprise her. She was about to step outside when she noticed a faint beeping that sounded much like a dial tone. _Oh, crap_. A slight shiver came over her, and she knew she was _definitely_ better off running in the opposite direction. Despite this, she found herself slowly walking toward the noise, knowing that she would regret leaving without checking on Miss Crescent—maybe she was in need of medical help.

She found the phone lying on the kitchen counter. No one was in sight. The house was extremely tidy, as she would have expected from Miss Crescent, although she found it was too neat. Almost as if the teacher wanted to sell the house and had taken pictures of her living room to show to potential buyers. After a second look, Tifa saw even the magazines on the coffee table were perfectly arranged. She would have bet that there was not a speck of dust anywhere.

Her chest suddenly started hurting, and she realized it was because she was scared. Leaving truly was the best option. As she headed for the exit, she spied something out of the place in the picture perfect décor in what appeared to be the bathroom. She immediately knew what was going on. It was starting to make sense. She was surprised when she noticed that she had unconsciously walked toward the bathroom. She gently kicked the door with her foot.

Tifa had never seen a dead body before. A few years ago, she and some friends from Midgar had talked about this after a student had been found dead on school grounds—if they had been the one to find the body how would they have reacted? She had always assumed she would just scream and run. They had all laughed and agreed. But she found herself speechless and rooted on the spot and unable to avert her eyes. The blood from Miss Crescent's slit wrists had formed a large pool around her; with her eyes closed, her dress, her long hair floating around her, and her arms on either side of her body, Tifa was reminded of a painting of a girl drowning she had seen on a school trip. All that was missing were the scattered flowers. A small knife laid on the floor. The whole bathroom seemed stained red. There was blood on the wall, on the sink, on the mirror. Tifa backed away; her legs gave up, and she fell down. She hurt her wrist while trying to stop her fall. She heard the sound of her body fall, muted by the carpet. Then, something else fell, and she thought she must have knocked something over.

Another sound. A door falling shut. It was someone coming in the house. She knew it was Vincent. He was talking, and while she heard him, his words didn't register.

"The door was unlocked, so I just came in…" A pause. "Your new house's nice."

Tifa slowly got to her feet. Why couldn't he have been late? Why did _nothing_ ever seem to go right in this town?

"Lucrecia?"

She didn't want him to see this. Words of warning died in her throat.

"Oh, Tifa, hey." He did a double take when he saw her. "Where's Lucrecia?" He leant forward to check the bathroom. Tifa instinctively jumped towards him and grabbed his arm, dragging him away. "Wow. What's up?"

"She's out. The teacher's out. She'll be coming back soon." Her voice was incredibly steady.

"What? But her car's at the front."

"That's what she told me. We should come back later. Let's go." She pulled on his arm. He wouldn't budge.

"Wait, what's that noise? Is it the phone?" He tried to untangle himself from her iron grip. She felt her already fragile control start to slip.

"Yeah, it's the phone. It's none of our business. Let's just _go_, Vince. Please."

He finally looked at her, and she knew it was over. He could tell something was wrong. She was squeezing his arm too tight.

"Tifa, you look like you've just seen—"

His body went still. She used all that was left of her strength to tug him away. No luck.

"No, Vincent, we need to _go_. We can't stay here. Let's go!"

Vincent turned on his heels, roughly freeing his arm, and quickly walked towards the hallway of the bathroom. She ran in front of him to slam the door shut. He stood in front of her, his face expressionless.

"Let's leave, okay? Just trust me. Let's get out of here," she pleaded, trying not to loose her calm. "We can call the cops and—"

Her last words seemed to snap it out of his little world. "I am _not_ calling the cops."

"Okay, okay, but please listen to me—"

He made a move to grab the doorknob, but she wouldn't let go. Her voice started shaking. "You don't want to see this, Vincent, please."

"Move!" He yelled, and she was so taken aback that she released her hold on the door; it slid open.

For some reason, it was worse the second time. Tifa could feel she was about to get sick at any moment. Her legs were moving of their own accord towards the front door.

Vincent didn't move. "You're kidding," he whispered.

"I'm leaving. I'm getting the fuck out of here," she said, not looking back.

She ran, ran as fast as she could until her lungs were burning and she was running out of breath. Her own house stood only a few meters ahead. She pushed herself to reach it. Not wanting to fumble around in her bag for her keys, she rang the doorbell, feeling like a stranger. Her Dad answered. He was dressed in his regular suit and tie. He stared at her with worried eyes as she drank a tall glass of water in one go.

"Where are you going? It's Sunday." She realized that she sounded mad.

"Business trip for the whole week. I was about to leave."

His bags were standing in the entrance. His coat was lying on the back of a chair.

"Uh, all ready to go."

"Tifa, are you alright?" She thought he was about to take a step towards her, but he was only getting his coat.

"Yeah. Peachy. Just decided to go for a run."

He obviously didn't believe her. He checked his watch.

"I really have to go, but if there's anything…"

"No, no. No problem. I felt like running. I'm alright."

He grabbed his suitcase after shrugging on his coat. His car keys were in his hands.

"I'll believe you. Don't forget to behave while I'm gone."

"Sure thing, Dad. Sure thing."

"I'll call you later this week."

The door was about to close when she cried out. "Dad!"

_Don't leave me alone_.

He turned around. "What?"

"Have a safe trip."

He gave her a smile. "Thanks. Bye."

As soon as she heard the sound of the car taking off, she climbed up the stairs to her room. She put down her bag and jacket, carefully picked up a change of clothes, went into the bathroom, and turned on the shower. She sat on the toilet seat, listening to the water fall.

Alright.

Alright, Lockheart. Breathe in, breathe out. I have to calm down, she realized. She hadn't done anything wrong. Except for not notifying the police or the hospital. She hadn't done anything wrong. She was fine. _I'm okay_. She wasn't the one lying on the floor, drowning in her own blood.

Then why did she have the nagging feeling that she was forgetting about something? A detail. An important detail. For her. Or for Miss Crescent.

Lucrecia Crescent.

Her teacher.

Vincent's dead friend's sister. His crush. Maybe it was something deeper. She didn't know.

"Oh, goddamn it," she groaned. The rhythmic sound of water hitting ceramic was giving her a headache. She hid her face in her hands.

Alright, Lockheart. _Get a grip on yourself. For real this time. Start from the beginning_.

But she didn't want to. Didn't feel like seeing the body—corpse—again, even if it was only in her head.

She thought about her mom's empty coffin, the lid sealed shut. The cars had exploded. There had been nothing left to make pretty before throwing the glorified box and its content underground.

But Miss Crescent would look beautiful as they lowered her. Unmarked as long as they hid the underside of her wrists. They would do that. To hide the fact that she had killed herself.

She really had become a cynic.

Tifa reached out and turned off the water stream.

Was it normal to feel scared for oneself after witnessing what she had barely half an hour ago? It couldn't be like with a murder victim, knowing that the killer was still around. Lucrecia had been her own killer.

Why did she feel so scared? She closed her eyes. It all came back to that detail—that fucking little detail—that was escaping her.

"I need to calm down," she told herself, slowly getting up and restarting the shower again. _I can't think about it otherwise._

As of now, all she knew for certain was that she didn't want to be alone. Her house was too big, always too empty.

Once squeaky clean and dressed up, she began drying her hair.

"I look like hell."

She giggled. Did it sound hysterical? Hopefully not. Probably not.

It was only as she checked her reflection in the hallway mirror in passing that she saw how much more makeup than usual she had put on. Nothing was left of the girl who ran away from her dead teacher. She debated removing it, but maybe it was better that way. It would ward off the questions if she looked normal.

Next step was to find someone to hang out with. Preferably in a crowded place. But not a party like the one she had gone to yesterday. She blinked. That had only been yesterday?

Well, she supposed that ruled out Cloud, then. She was ready to bet he wouldn't even pick up the phone once he saw her name flashing on the little screen.

She didn't know whom else to call.

There was Vincent, of course. Who knew what state she would find him in, though?

Who else could she trust?

A voice at the back of her mind whispered that she _could_ trust Zack and Aerith. But Tifa still didn't feel comfortable enough with them to talk about what had happened today.

Forget Yuffie or Reno. Her thumb stilled when she reached Elliott in her contact list. She knew him and Jordan to be trustworthy.

In the end, she clicked on Vincent's name. It went directly to his voicemail. She tried again nonetheless.

Maybe she could just wander around town looking for people she knew. Or people who knew her.

Yes, that was what she would do. Staying one more minute in this damn house would drive her crazy.

—

When he had been convinced to participate in a friendly soccer game, Cloud hadn't expected it to be so brutal, for a lack of better words. The shouts of the players were loud enough to wake up the whole neighbourhood, and their curses vulgar enough to shame Cid Highwind. Which was why, when he finally got to the park, he decided to sit this one out and take a nap. Competition wasn't exactly his cup of tea.

A cry of pain reverberated through the air, and Cloud lifted the baseball cap covering his eyes to see who was hurt. It was hard to make out anything as all the guys were gathering around the injured player, blocking his view. He sighed. One of the guys next to him chuckled.

"I think this one gonna's be sitting out."

Cloud grunted, lowering his cap and lying back on the bleachers. "Sounds fake to me."

"Dude's crying in pain. Look. Look, he's crying!"

"Nobody screams like that. He can't have a broken leg."

"Why would he fake it? We're not on TV. Hey, you got a smoke to spare?"

"In my car." Cloud pointed to somewhere over his shoulder. "But I'm not getting up now."

"Shit."

Nobody said anything for a while; Cloud could make out the telltale noise of someone texting. He guessed it was the guy he had been talking to, whatever his name was. They were Jordan's friends.

"Hey, um," he paused, trying once more to recall the guy's name. "Hey," he repeated, this time louder.

"Ya?" The texting sound stopped.

"Where's Jordan?"

"Eh, can't make him out in there." The guy seemed to get up, as if to get a better look. "Kyle! Yo, Kyle!" Approaching footsteps. "You know where Jordan is?"

"He went to help the injured guy. It looked pretty ugly." He was breathing loudly, probably winded from all the running. "Yeah. I think he and a couple others are taking him to the clinic."

"What happened?"

"Elbow to the face. Or more like elbow to the mouth."

"Fuck. Doesn't sound fake to me."

"What? No way it was fake." Kyle laughed.

Cloud raised his hand in defeat. "Alright, I get it."

He contemplated what he should do. Now that Jordan had left, he felt free to leave as well, although he was enjoying his nap, if you could even call it that. He laid back down.

"Dude, where are you going?"

"Seems like it's over. I'm heading home."

"What, they stopped playing?" A grunt. "Jeez."

"Don't sound so upset. It was a good game."

Sure, Cloud thought. It was a great game.

"Well, we wanted to go to the café after. Just come with us. What about you, Cloud?"

Cloud glanced sideways. Kyle had been the one talking to him.

"Why not." And why not, indeed. It's not like he had anything better to do. Other than trying to forget the embarrassing memory of yesterday. It made him want to hide from Lockheart for the remaining of his life.

"It's settled! Meet us there at six."

Cloud waved to show that it was all right with him. There was no answer from the other guy; he was gone. Running footsteps told him Kyle was retreating.

Why did he accept again? He barely knew these guys. He never was the most sociable person on the Planet.

He waited in his somewhat comfy spot until some guy kicked the bleacher, almost knocking him off balance. He sat up, half-glaring, half-smirking when he saw it was Chandler. There were a couple of guys—some he knew, some he didn't—waiting behind.

"Come one, wonderkid. You don't want to spend the evening here. It's gonna rain."

"I wasn't planning to."

"Of course not."

Chandler signalled to his friends, and they all started towards the street.

"Who got hurt?" Cloud asked. He fidgeted with his cap. Why did he decide to leave his cigarettes in his car again?

"Some dude from the Academy."

"So not an accident."

Chandler snorted. "The farthest thing from that. I didn't even know he was there until it happened."

Cloud nodded, and they let the chatter of the other guys wash over them.

One of them whistled.

"Who's that girl? She's looking _fine_."

"I dunno. Wait. I know her. It's the new girl. Tifa Locksomething."

Cloud felt his body tense up. And his day was going so well.

"It's Lockheart," Chandler said, frowning. "Hey, Tifa!"

She approached them, a smile plastered on her face. She greeted Chandler, but her eyes were on Cloud.

And Cloud knew there was something wrong.

"How you doing?" He blurted out without thinking. Fuck, they were supposed to be avoiding each other. Wasn't there some rule about avoiding time? Like a week or something until it was fine for them to speak again. Why did nothing ever go right in this goddamn town?

"Fine, thanks."

She smiled. It reeked of lies.

The guy next to Cloud elbowed him in the guts. "You looking good today, Lockheart."

The smile was still stuck on her face. "Thanks."

"Please tell me you're free tonight."

Chandler smacked the guy behind the head. Good one, Cloud thought.

"Stop it! I just wanted to ask her to come with us later. To hang out at the café." He turned towards Cloud. Wiggled his eyebrows a little. "We could even reserve a private table for you and Spikey."

Cloud had to resist the urge to hide in a hole. These comments seemed ten times worse since yesterday—since the rumours.

"Would you quit it," he snapped. Tifa was still smiling as she nodded.

His left hand twitched. They needed to talk in private. He turned around, waving at her to follow him, and went in the direction of his car.

"I gotta talk to you about something." That was more or less true. It was she who needed to tell him something, but who cared.

He could tell she did go after him from the few catcalls. They stayed silent until they reached their target. He opened the door for her. "Come on. Get in." She did.

Once hidden from the others, Tifa seemed to relax. He removed his cap, twisting it in his hands, unsure of what to do. It was probably better to let her talk when she was ready.

"Just…start the car," she mumbled.

He nodded a couple of times. "Where to?"

When she didn't answer, he glanced at her. She was laying back into the seat and her hands concealed her eyes.

"Cloud."

"Yeah?"

"Can I tell you something?"

He blinked. "Of course."

Silence.

"There was so much blood." It came out as moan.

He froze; his fist tightened around the steering wheel. This couldn't be happening. Not again. Not now.

Tifa let out a heavy sigh. He heard her shift around. "We went…we went to get some books and advice. For the project…" She was staring out of the window. "The door was unlocked, you know? I should have left then." Her voice cracked.

Cloud swore under his breath. "Who was it, Tifa?"

It was like she hadn't heard him. "I checked the bathroom. There was so much blood, Cloud. _So much_. And he just…he stood there, _staring_ at her, but I ran. It was too horrible."

He was about to repeat his question when her words made him stop. She was talking so low that he had difficulty catching what she was saying. "How can someone take their life like that?"

Suicide? He didn't know whether to feel relieved or not. That was much less complicated for them.

"I can see his face now," she said softly. "He looked so sad."

His doubts returned. "Who, Tifa?"

She closed her eyes and leant against the car window.

"Miss Crescent."

Cloud's heart sank.

Fuck.

—

Tifa waited for his reaction. She wasn't looking at him.

"It was suicide?"

"Looked that way."

"You're sure?"

She didn't answer immediately. "Looked that way," she said again.

Another stretch of silence. This one lasted longer.

"And what about Vincent?"

She shook her head. "His phone is dead or turned off."

"He's gonna do something stupid." She glanced at him, then. He was raking his hands through his hair.

"Perhaps. You know him better than I do."

Under normal circumstances, she reckoned her comment might not have been ignored. Under normal circumstances, she would have been pissed.

Cloud started the car, and it didn't take long for her to realize that he had no specific destination. After a few minutes, she recognized Vincent's neighbourhood. She couldn't tell if it was for her, or for him, or for Vincent. It didn't matter. Her mood lifted a bit.

She was tempted to tell him Vincent wouldn't be around here, but she figured he wouldn't want to acknowledge the real reason behind his seemingly aimless wandering.

It took them a while. A good forty minutes had passed before they saw his tall silhouette walking on the side of the street, head hunched down. By then they had seen the smoke rising from the other side of town. They knew which house it was without discussing it.

Cloud slowed down the car. Rolled down his window. Took a deep breath. Tifa leaned forward in her seat, hands clenching and unclenching anxiously.

"Get in." Cloud's voice was rougher than usual.

Vincent ignored him.

She could see Cloud's neck muscled tightening in anger. "Vincent," she called out. He kept on walking. And she realized that his face was blank.

"Stop the car." She unbuckled her seat belt.

"What?"

"Stop the car!"

"Alright, alright!" Cloud slammed on the break, but she was already out and jogging towards Vincent. He smelled of smoke. She grasped his arms. Shook him lightly.

"Vincent. Vince." Another little shake.

His daze gradually dissipated and focus returned in his eyes.

"She's dead," was the first thing he said.

"Yeah." Her voice was too soft. She wondered if he had even heard her.

He let his head fall against her right shoulder. She noticed he didn't have his glasses anymore. "You walked around without seeing anything?"

"Wasn't so bad."

She patted his back. "Let's go."

Vincent didn't question her as he got into Cloud's car. They didn't greet each other, but Tifa guessed them being less than two meters away from the other was already a start.

It was a silent drive to Vincent's house, and it stayed that way once the car parked. Nobody made a move to get out. Tifa was about to step out and accompany her friend when Cloud lifted his head a little. He was staring at his old best friend through the rear-view mirror. She did the same.

"Why did you burn down the house?"

That was a good question.

Vincent gave a half-hearted shrug. "I didn't want them to have her."

She knew it wasn't the right moment to ask about who 'them' were, but his statement had completely puzzled her.

It didn't seem to be the case for Cloud. "Fair enough," was all he said.

Without adding anything else, Vincent got out of the car. She waved at him even though she knew he wasn't looking.

"What excuse are they gonna give the public?" Her voice sounded accusatory.

Cloud didn't look her way. "Same as usual. Gas leak."

The words 'as usual' made her shiver, but she didn't ask anything else, unsure whether or not she truly wanted answers this time.

"Where are we going?" Small talk was good—and awkward, though that wasn't something between them.

"The café. Unless you want me to drop you off somewhere else."

"Will there be a lot of people?"

He threw her an inquisitive glance. "Yeah. Probably."

"Let's go."

"You know—" Cloud hesitated. He cleared his throat. "You didn't have to accept the invitation."

"Uh, I know?"

"It's just that I could see that you weren't feeling well."

"Of course you would," she mumbled. Then, louder, "I'm not forcing myself, Cloud."

"Okay. Okay, I wanted to make sure. Jordan might be there," he added.

The conversation stilled. Perhaps they could just let whatever tension had arisen from yesterday disappear with time. It was less complicated this way.

She jumped when he parked the car and told her they had arrived. She recognized the place as the one where she had bought lunch on the day she had skipped school. Hopefully the atmosphere would be nicer tonight.

And it was, Tifa found out as they walked in. It was mostly filled with faces she knew from sight not name, but it instantly made her relax. Cloud stirred her towards the back with a hand on her back.

"What do you want to drink? I'll go get it." He said.

"Uh, just water." He gave a little push in direction a table. It was filled with guys only. And no Jordan. But there was Chandler. "Hi." She waved.

"You made it!" A chorus of similar greetings followed, and one guy scooted over to give her more space to sit.

"Thanks." She had the feeling he was the one who had invited her. His next comment confirmed it.

"So," he drawled, "had a nice 'chat' with Spikey?"

Tifa resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she stared at him innocently and said, "It was very informative."

That took him aback. Chandler smacked his head for the second time that day. "She's laughing at you, idiot."

Thankfully, Spikey himself reappeared quite quickly. Tifa let out a sigh of relief she hadn't been aware she was holding. He brought over a chair and sat to her right, at the head of the table. She gulped down the water too fast; it burned at the back of her throat.

And as the evening went on, she found herself growing more and more anxious, which had her stay silent most of the time. The company wasn't bad, and they had her clutching her sides in laughter and answering questions a few times. But she and Cloud mostly stayed on the sidelines. She could see him stealing worried glances at her frequently.

"Yo, guess who I saw wandering all over town today?"

"How should I know, dumbass?"

"No, dude, listen. It was Valentine. Looking all creepy."

Tifa's ears prickled at this. Creepy was a bit of a strong word.

"Martin, that guy is _always_ creepy."

"He was walking around like a fucking zombie!"

Someone coughed. She would bet it was Chandler.

"No offense, Cloud. He was your friend."

"None taken," he replied smoothly. "The one you should say that to is Tifa. He's pretty much her best friend." His tone was neutral. Tifa didn't like it.

The guy, Martin, looked embarrassed. "Sorry, Tifa."

Suddenly feeling a small whirlwind of emotions, she leaned forward in her seat and glared at him.

"And why is he creepy? Because of his hair? Because he's poorer than you? Because he's with the ravens?"

From the corner of her eyes, she could see Cloud putting on his cap. He already knew she was ready to storm out of here.

Martin kept his mouth shut.

"Just so you know, he's one of the nicest guy out there. Maybe the nicest I've known. Appearances are _so_ deceiving, it's true." She smiled. "You look nice, but you're obviously a douchebag. And," she continued, her voice louder in case someone had half a mind to interrupt her, "did you ever think that Vincent had a rough day? That something bad had happened to him?"

Cloud kicked her under the table. She ignored him. He got up, tugged at her arm.

"Let's _go_, Teef."

He took hold of her shoulders to make sure she was coming with him. Tifa unconsciously leaned into him, and his body tensed for a second, then relaxed. She sneaked one last peek at their table as she was about to exit. Everyone except for Martin was in hysterics. Chandler saw her and gave her two thumbs up.

Cloud didn't loosen his hold until they got into his car. It was only then that she was the smile he was trying to repress. She crossed her arms across her chest, feeling victorious for some reason.

"So I_ was_ right. He is a douchebag."

"Prince of the douchebags." Cloud shook his head as he started the engine. "Scott's the King."

"Of course." She nodded as if it was a serious matter.

She felt a little better down that they had left the café behind. Her initial plan of wanting to be in a crowded place turned to dust; it hadn't done her much good, if any. She was more comfortable being alone with Cloud. It was such a funny thought that she almost let him know of it.

"D'you want to come eat with me at home?" She said on impulse. "We can order pizza or something. Watch a movie," she finished lamely. What kind of idea was that.

But Cloud didn't seem to mind. "Alright with me."

And she realized that she hadn't hid her wish not to be alone as well as she had expected. This was Cloud, after all—the one who had been able to tell she wasn't fine when others couldn't.

"Thanks," she whispered.

He acted like he hadn't heard her. She knew he had.

—

The movie was nearing its end when Cloud noticed how little Tifa had eaten. Her half of the pizza was only missing one slice. He pressed the mute button. It's not like either of them had really been listening.

"Not that hungry?"

She threw him a dirty look. Of course she wouldn't be that hungry.

"Don't mind if I take a slice, then." He didn't, waiting to see if she would react. He remembered clearly how she had been possessive of her lunch when Reno and Zack at tried to steal some bites once.

He let himself fall back against the couch. "Goddamn it, Tifa. Cheer up. It was suicide, not murder."

Bad one, Strife, he told himself. Really bad one. He cringed. "Uh, no, wait. I meant that, you know, these things happen." He paused. "I mean, she hurt herself, not you," he said, softer.

This seemed to do the trick. Tifa relaxed—just a little, but that was already a start. She still clutched a small pillow to herself; she turned sideways to face him.

"I know." Her voice was equally as quiet. "I know. But I feel scared, anyway. That's not normal, is it?"

"I don't know." He twisted his ring once, twice. He knew very well why she was asking him out of all people. "I didn't." And he would leave it at all.

Tifa frowned. At first, he believed it was because she didn't find his answer satisfactory. But that wasn't it; she had barely heard him. "Something's escaping me. A small detail…"

She sat up straight suddenly. "Oh, my god."

He did the same, alert. "What?"

"When I fell…Yes! When I saw—when I opened the door to the bathroom, I fell down. From shock probably." She waved her hand impatiently. "It doesn't matter why, but I heard a sound after. I wasn't thinking too straight and I thought I hit something." She slapped his arm in excitement. He fell back a bit. "But, Cloud, that wasn't it! There was nothing behind. I didn't _hit_ anything."

It was his turn to frown. "So? Must have been Vincent when he came in, no?"

"No! He came in after. The sound, it was something hitting the carpet, or _steps_."

His throat tightened. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Can't be, Tifa," he said slowly, his voice quiet again. "It was suicide."

"But what if it wasn't?" Her eyes were wide.

He stayed silent.

"Cloud, that would explain why I feel scared. My brain registered the danger before I could process it. And Miss Crescent was Shelke's sister, Shelke who…" She took a couple of deep breaths. "That means that the murderer was still in the house and if Vince hadn't come in…" She clenched her hands into fists. "Why would the door be unlocked? Or the phone beeping? It doesn't make sense."

Sighing, Cloud got up. Started to pick up the dishes. The credits were still rolling.

"I'm sorry, Tifa, but that's just ridiculous. Why make a murder seem like suicide?"

Her gaze didn't waver. "Why not?"

He shook his head to show he disagreed. Suicide impacted the family more than anyone else. Lucrecia didn't have any family left. He could tell her that. But he knew it wouldn't be enough.

"Let me just bring these in the kit—"

"Why? So you can call Zack and form a plan?"

He stood speechless, dirty plates in hand. Gave her a small laugh. "I was hoping you wouldn't think about that. I was gonna wait until I left." Fuck, why was he being so honest.

"I don't see why you would need to call him if it was suicide." She lifted her chin in a somewhat haughty manner. It was like seeing the remains of the Tifa two months ago, snapping at everyone. Or maybe just at him.

He almost dropped the dishes in irritation, and kneeled in front of the coffee table. "Okay, Tifa. Maybe it does sound suspicious that I would call Zack. But if you know what happened with Shelke, then you should be aware that it's normal for him to let know."

"I don't think there's anything 'normal' about it, but carry on."

He supressed his smirk. _Let's stay serious, Strife_.

"And just maybe it's not suicide. But we won't know until tomorrow at least."

"What do you mean?"

"They'll make an announcement tomorrow morning. Probably around ten. Shinra will tell us that Lucrecia died and he'll mention whether or not it was suicide." _And I already know the answer._

He picked up the plates again, leaving to process what he had just said. Hopefully, it would calm her down. Once in the kitchen, he dropped everything in the sink. Cloud passed one hand over his face, feeling exhausted. He couldn't think about any of this now. _It'll show on my face, it'll show on my face_.

He got upstairs, Tifa was standing in front of her bedroom.

"Can you stay the night?" It was all she said before closing the door.

Cloud let his head fall against the wall. From where he was, he could see she had taken out a pillow and blankets on the couch in the lounge.

He brought the pizza box downstairs. Stored it in the fridge. Went to the bathroom. Went back upstairs. Kicked off his shoes. Brought the blanket to his shoulders. Covered his eyes with his arm.

_Goddamn it, Lockheart._

—

**A/N: **Uh, I'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter (but then again, when am I?), and I would have liked it to be longer, but continuing at this point would have screwed up the pacing. So here it is. Sorry for the POV jumping. Lots of it in this chapter.

As usual, big thanks to:

**Misoso, Iris Irine, BananaPeaceMonkeyKarmi, One Of A Beautiful Kind, VenomousStar, FinalXFenrir, alice, demonegg, ElleRie, Sheiky, Thembra, Amber, OPFAN, Just Tacos, Dani, Guest, Darth Nihilion, faebsel, Amber, AffeGlass, Hegodart, Bmonti, Noyra, Stryper, and Kaja!**

**demonegg:** YO!

_No FAQ!_


	18. rumours, questions, and secret missions

**Chapter 18: **_rumours, questions, and secret missions_

—

**A/N: **tada! Come on, that was quick. Hurray for summer.

Also, the flashback at the very beginning is a continuation of the one at the start of chapter 13. You might want to reread that part if you feel confused.

—

_The sounds had stopped. She knew it meant the fighting had come to an end. That was good. It also meant she could finally come out of hiding. _

_She counted under her breath—one, two, three, four, five—before exiting the closet. It didn't hurt to be too careful. Angry people were scary people. _

_She opened the door leading to the hallway. Slowly. In case she needed to close it again and hide suddenly. It was in moments like this where she wondered why she even had to hide. But her little mind flashed danger whenever there was yelling. Danger, or hurt, pain, fear, sadness. She just didn't know that yet. _

_The door fell quietly behind her when the screaming started anew. It was more violent and raw than before—very scary, she thought. The stairs were right in front of her. She could make it to the basement. Hide again. Disappear for some time. No one would notice. _

_They were getting nearer. The voices were much, much too loud. Her little legs carried to her goal just as a woman stormed out of a room, unaware of her daughter standing in her way. _

"_Fuck off, Adam! I'm tired of your bullshit!"_

_The woman didn't immediately realize that she had barrelled into her daughter until she heard the strangled cry of her husband. That's when she saw the little girl sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, unmoving, blood spreading around the head._

"_Tifa! Oh, my God!"_

_The little girl let her eyes close. She never figured out which parent had called out to her. _

—

Tifa woke up for the third time that night. Her skin was sheathed in a light sweat from the nightmare—memory, she corrected—and she felt thoroughly disgusting.

The alarm clock flashed 6:48AM. She could hear someone move around on the same floor. Her heart did a little somersault when she remembered that she had asked Cloud to stay the night. So he had. She had fallen asleep soon after going to bed, her mind exhausted, but not enough not to give her a bunch of disturbing dreams that kept waking her. She had never known if he had left or stayed. She covered her eyes with her hands.

"Thank you," she whispered to no one. He would never know how much it had meant to her.

She got up as silently as possible, and headed over to her vanity. There was some light filtering through the blinds, but it was enough for her to check her reflection. She poked her dark circles. She would need some heavy makeup to cover those.

Her last dream in mind, she let one of her hands slide to the back of her head where the bump and scar from the incident still lingered. She had spent some time in a coma. She grimaced at her reflection. It was far from being one of her favourite souvenirs.

The sound of footsteps made her tense up until she registered that it was only Cloud walking in the hallway. The fear that he would leave without telling her suddenly overcame her, and she rushed to her door, opening it wide. There was Cloud, right in front of it, ready to knock. She let out an obvious sigh of relief that made him raise an eyebrow.

"I thought you'd leave without saying anything," she explained. Saying it aloud made her embarrassed, but she felt like she owed him that at the very least.

He lowered his hand. "No. I thought you might want to be there for the assembly this morning."

It annoyed her that he was certain there would be one. She took the return of a slight irritation over him and his damn confidence as a good sign that she was feeling better.

"Yeah, I would, thanks. Lemme just take a shower and get ready. It'll take, like, half an hour."

Cloud checked the time on his cellphone. "Alright…I'll wait for you. We'll swing by my house afterwards. Unless you want me to go now and come back for you later?"

She could see he favoured the latter option. She could also see he would never tell her that.

"Pick me up after. It'll be more efficient that way." She still couldn't warm up to the idea of staying alone, but she knew that, at this point, it was irrational fear more than anything else.

"Good. I'll be back in forty minutes or so."

Tifa leaned against the doorframe. "Don't take too much time getting ready," she teased. It felt a little forced. Still better than nothing, she told herself.

He stayed still for a moment, then chuckled. He flicked her forehead gently. "Glad to see you're back," he said softly. She tried to glare at him, but couldn't bring herself to. "Later."

Cloud turned around and went straight for the stairs. She waved even if he couldn't see her. It was when the front door closed noisily that she realized her cheeks felt warmer than usual.

Stupid Cloud.

—

Tifa felt that things wouldn't go smoothly once she and Cloud got close to the school. It was more of a gut feeling. But she knew. From the few times they had held hands in public to the day before when Cloud had put his arm around her shoulders, rumours would have been born, to her great sadness. She wasn't a fan of them, and even less so when she was their target.

"Hey, I wanted to warn you," Cloud began as he parked, but Tifa interrupted him.

"Rumours, right?"

"Yeah."

"Peachy."

Cloud snorted. "Couldn't feel the sarcasm there, Lockheart."

"Fuck off," she said good-naturedly. He laughed as he got out of the car.

People's reactions to them entering the school were relatively non-existent. Once again, Tifa had to remind herself that there was no fucking spotlight hovering around her. Yes, there were rumours. It didn't mean that everyone cared. Or at least, they cared less than the news of Miss Crescent's death. As she heard the name of her dead teacher over and over, Tifa instinctively moved closer to Cloud and griped the sleeve of his jacket. He glanced her way.

"What if someone saw me leave the house," she hissed.

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. It was suicide."

She let go of him. "Maybe."

He rolled his eyes. "Let's not get into this again."

They went their separate way silently once they reached his locker. Tifa noticed people stared more when she was alone. Doubt crept into her mind, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was because of her and Cloud, or because of Miss Crescent's death. _Doesn't matter_. She repeated Cloud's words to her like a prayer. After all, it applied to both situations.

Her first two classes unfolded completely normally. It was only as her Math period ended that she heard Shinra's voice over the speakers calling for everyone to assembled in the gym. She looked at the time. It was 9:53. It made her feel like strangling Cloud until he gave her all the answers she wanted.

She couldn't see anyone she knew in the crowd nearby her. She waited alone, shuffling nervously. Shinra finally grabbed the microphone and stood up on a bleacher in order to be seen by everyone. He cleared his throat. Unsurprisingly, his face kept its emotionless mask.

"As some of you may have heard, something tragic happened yesterday, something that touches our school." He paused, and Tifa thought he was being a little too dramatic. It made the announcement loose some of its impact in her opinion. "Our dear teacher, Miss Lucrecia Crescent, passed away yesterday afternoon. There was a fire that burned down her house and she could not get out." Another pause. "There is a possibility that set the fire herself."

Hearing it put this way gave Tifa another shock, and she took a step back, bumping into someone who seemed to busy talking with her neighbour to notice. People moved around restlessly. Zack unexpectedly came into view for a second. She had never seen him look so angry. It meant Cloud hadn't called him. For some reason, she felt proud of him. But the feeling didn't last long.

So they were implying that it was suicide.

She realized that Vincent burning down the house had left her even more unsure. Now there were no clues left. No way to tell if someone had murdered Miss Crescent.

And why would the police believe that a dead person would have set the fire. Surely they could tell her true cause of death. They always did in the books she read.

It just didn't make sense. She sighed.

Shinra called for people to be calm, and the crowd settled down rather quickly. "From now on and until we find a new, appropriate French teacher, all of Miss Crescent's students will have a study period instead. The schedule is posted on the French local's door. We will have a little memorial built in souvenir of her in the next few days. That will be all."

People slowly started to move towards the exit doors. Tifa followed, deep in thought. She headed for the library on auto-pilot, figuring that was where she needed to go from now on.

She finally felt ready to review yesterday's events.

She had gotten to Miss Crescent's house earlier than planned only to find the door unlocked—which, she reminded herself, wasn't that unusual here. Then, there had been the beeping phone. Almost as if she had tried to call for help but ultimately hadn't been able to. Or it was possible that she had gotten some horrible news that had driven her to suicide, having her forget to turn off the phone in the process. She remembered reading somewhere that a lot of suicides turned out to be impulsive acts rather than premeditate ones.

And why would Miss Crescent plan her death on a day she knew people would come to see her? Tifa could vividly recall how the blood was still slowly seeping from the wounds. Miss Crescent hadn't been dead for very long before she got there. Even if it had been an impulsive act, the timing still felt so strange to Tifa.

The library was still relatively empty, and she took a seat towards the windows. It filled up pretty rapidly. Vincent was nowhere in sight, not that she would have expected to see him.

_Let's see. Murder or emotional act. Which one is real?_

At this point, the first theory appeared more tangible still to Tifa. The noise that had been so eerily like steps; the timing; the phone still on; that constant buzzing at the back of her mind going _what if he saw my face and is coming for me_; the sense of danger.

Tifa let her head fall against the table. The person sitting across from her jumped at the noise. She was about to get a headache from all this thinking.

Maybe it would be easier if she just believed Cloud and everyone else when they said it was suicide.

Yeah.

Maybe.

—

"But it's Thursday now. I haven't seen him yet. Have you seen him? You better not hide it from me."

"Tifa—"

"Seriously. I'm serious."

"I don't think I'm the person you should ask."

"Who else can I ask? You know Vincent more than anyone else."

Cloud ran a hand through his hair, probably feeling as exasperated as he looked.

"I don't talk to him. I don't go look for him, and I won't start now."

"You should," Tifa grumbled, but he ignored it. "In any case, I'm worried. You don't think he'll go do something dumb, do you?"

Cloud shrugged. "He already did."

_That's right_. _He burned down a fucking house_. Tifa shook her head as a reply. They were talking at his locker, waiting for classes to begin. Now that the surprise of Miss Crescent's death was starting to dissipate, rumours of hers and Cloud's newfound love were blooming more than ever. They kept getting peeks and some open staring as if their conversation was about the wonders of romance. Tifa could think of many subjects that were much more romantic. One particular group of girls were annoying her with their constant glances, and she glared at them.

"Don't do that." Cloud lightly slapped her arm.

"What should I do, bark?"

He snorted. "Nothing. Don't do shit. They'll stop soon."

As if by magic, the girls walked away. "See?"

Tifa raised her chin, sure that it was because of her glaring. She watched them leave, trying to think of a way to support this kind of attitude; the situation annoyed her too much to just dismiss it. She thought about how Cloud must have withstood it when his mom had died and he had fought with Vincent.

"It must have been tough last time."

"Last time when?" He was playing around with his phone.

"Oh, you know, Cloud."

He didn't answer for a while. She could see he was texting Zack when she peeked at the screen.

"I didn't care."

Tifa wondered how you could not care when people gossiped about personal aspects of your life.

"Anyway." He put his phone in his pocket. "I have to go. Zack wants to see me."

"Later."

"Yeah." He waved goodbye, and then disappeared in the crowd.

Tifa checked her newly bought watch, only to find there was only five minutes before the first bell rang. She headed for her classroom at a slow pace, keeping an eye out for Vincent, not really paying attention to anything else. She smashed into someone, almost loosing her balance. She lifted her head. It was a policeman of around 25 years old; his face was stony as he apologized. He was accompanied by an older man with collar-length hair that shone silver, and pale green eyes. Tifa had a sense of déjà-vu. A quick review of the people she knew told her he looked too much like Kadaj and his brothers not to be related to them. He had on the coldest smile she had ever seen.

"Sorry." It was she could say. She got out of the way.

"It's quite alright, Miss," said the older man, still smiling. They moved on towards Shinra's office.

Tifa reached her classroom, speculating on when they would come to ask her questions.

Fittingly, they came to get her during what used to be Miss Crescent's class. She was doing her Science homework when the librarian asked her to step outside. The two policemen were waiting for her. They had Vincent—looking at his laceless shoes—with them. She repressed the urge to ask them how they had managed to find him.

The oldest cop gestured to the library entrance with his head. "You can go in, Mister Valentine."

Vincent got in without a spare glance in her direction. Tifa clenched her fists. This whole avoidance thing was getting old. She would have thought they were in this together.

"If you'll come with us, Miss Lockheart." This time he indicated an empty classroom in the same the corridor.

Once inside, they sat down, the two cops on one side and Tifa across from them.

_I didn't do anything wrong, I didn't do anything wrong, I didn't do anything wrong_.

The older one began to speak. "So, Miss Tifa Lockheart, you must be wondering why we called out here."

Tifa took a deep breath.

"Not really."

"Good. My name is Sephiroth; I'm the chief of police in Nibelheim." That creepy smile again. "Most people just called me Chief. This is Tseng. He's a trainee."

Tseng nodded and shuffled his papers.

"See," Sephiroth continued, "someone saw you leave Miss Lucrecia Crescent's house in panic on Sunday after at around four. I assume you're aware that Miss Crescent died on Sunday afternoon."

Tifa nodded.

"Well, explain."

She pondered if all interrogations went this way.

"Vincent and I were supposed to meet with her at four—"

"At her house?"

"Yes. I know it sounds strange, but she was just going to lend us books for a project and—"

Sephiroth waved to dismiss what she was saying. "That's okay, carry on."

_I will if you let me speak._

"I got there early, and her door was unlocked and her car there, but she wouldn't answer. I was afraid she might be hurt. So I went in." The image of a corpse floating in a sea of blood flashed before her eyes. She put the nightmare out of her mind. "I found her in the bathroom. It looked like she had slit her wrists. Vincent came in, but I panicked and ran home."

Sephiroth hadn't blinked once during her explanation. It made her nervous. His stare was worse than all those of these damn gossips all at once.

"Why didn't you call an ambulance? She might still have been alive."

The thought hadn't occurred to Tifa. Her heart began to beat faster. "She looked dead," she said in low voice. She couldn't say Vincent had vehemently refused to call the cops.

Sephiroth's expression had stayed fairly neutral all along, but it slowly shifted towards one of condescendence. He barely bothered to look at her properly.

"That doesn't say anything. In any case, your responsibility in this situation would have been to call for aid."

He left it at that, and it made Tifa feel as remorseful as he had wanted.

He made a sign to Tseng, who riffled through his pile of papers, choosing the last one. "I don't believe you have anything to do with the fire that ravaged Miss Crescent's house? Considering you _left_ at four."

"No." Her voice was tight, and she willed herself to relax. "I didn't know about it until they announced it Monday morning."

Sephiroth made an approval grunt. "Do you have any idea what could have happened?"

Tifa shrugged, her face as innocent as she could make it seem. "Gas leak?" Damn, she was starting to sound like the elite.

Both cops disregarded her answer. "You didn't notice anything strange? Out of place?"

She considered telling them about her suspicions about the suicide, that someone else might have been in the house, that nothing seemed to fit into place, but she only shook her head to let know she hadn't noticed anything of worth. Sephiroth stared at her, but she didn't waver. "There was nothing," she repeated.

He sighed, handing back the paper to Tseng. "Then, we are done here. Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Lockheart. Please call us if you remember anything."

Tifa took this as her cue to leave. She turned around right as she got to the door.

"Hm, if you don't mind, I have a question."

Sephiroth didn't even glance her way. "Yes?"

"Why say it was a fire? Why didn't you specify it was suicide if you knew?"

He smiled. "We didn't. Thank you again, Miss Lockheart."

—

Reno caught her a little past five thirty, right as she was about to exit the school. She hadn't eaten with the elite that day, feeling strangely as if she had betrayed them during her interrogation. Then, she had gone to the library when classes had ended in order to finish some homework and avoid dealing with questions from them. She had had enough of these for one day.

"I want to talk to you," he said, smirk on like usual. "Come on."

Tifa finished to put on her leather jacket and scarf, and followed him. "Sure."

They walked in silence in the direction of the second floor's lockers.

"Over here." He pointed to an area behind a set of stairs. The hallway wasn't lighted and once seated on the floor, Tifa reckoned they were hard to see. She narrowed her eyes.

"You're not involving me in some sort of prank again, are you?"

"Hardly."

"Then why are we are?"

He rubbed his hands as if in anticipation. "A show of sorts. But hey, let's talk about you. I heard you had a nice chat with our entire police force."

Tifa rolled her eyes to mask her discomfort regarding the topic. "Yeah. They were a cheerful bunch."

"I know. A real delight."

They both laughed. She heard footsteps. Reno's eyes lit up, and he signalled to her to stop making noise. She leaned forward a little, curious.

It was Cloud. Not just him, Chandler and that scary dude, Donovan, too. The latter started to fiddle around with a locker while Cloud seemed to be supervising and standing guard. Chandler was crouching, one hand in a backpack.

Tifa knew they were up to no good.

Donovan chuckled. "Wish I could see her face."

"You can come tomorrow."

"It'll be too obvious." That was Cloud. He was playing with his lighter, which Tifa knew meant he was anxious and itching for a smoke.

"Damn it, wonderkid, just take one out already," Chandler snapped.

"I won't smoke inside. The detectors will go off."

"Whatever. You'll get away with it."

"Yeah, and then the alarm will ring and our secret mission won't be so fucking secret anymore." Tifa could feel the sarcasm in Donovan's voice.

"Secret mission?"

"Oh, shut up."

"Are you guys done yet?"

"Not thanks to you, Spikey."

The door to the locker opened and Chandler put something in it. They closed it, spun the lock, and stepped aside. Nothing looked amiss.

"Woohoo."

"Let's go celebrate."

Their steps and voices gradually faded away. Tifa waited until it was complete silence to come out of hiding.

"What the fuck?"

Reno burst out laughing. He supported his body against the side of stairwell.

"This is precious."

Tifa thought there was absolutely nothing precious about this, but she didn't say it.

"Come one, Tifa, cheer up. Wasn't that interesting?"

"Not really. What was the point of all that?"

He gripped her left shoulder, leading her towards one of the exits of the school. "You'll see tomorrow. I figured you'd be glad to know who did it then."

She was tempted to keep on pestering him with questions concerning what they had just seen, but she stopped herself. She had an idea what the guys had just put in the locker. She waited until they were outside to ask. They came out behind the school. The area was empty.

"Okay, they put drugs in there and are gonna frame someone, aren't they?"

Reno didn't look very surprised. "Congrats on getting that part." He sat, his back to the wall, and she did the same. He took out a cigarette and a lighter from his pockets.

"You smoke, too?"

"Yup. It's a common habit."

"I know, jeez."

"You called me out on it the first time we met."

"Oh, yeah. I might have."

He exhaled loudly. "So, nothing else to say?"

"How do you guys get away with all this? And if you say magic, I'll strangle you."

He chuckled. His smirk got smugger. "I can tell you, if you really want me to."

Tifa almost recoiled from disbelief. "You better not be kidding me."

"Am not, sweetheart."

She stayed silent.

"Tifa?"

"Sorry. I was just waiting to see if this was a dream or something."

He grinned. "I'll tell you a little story." He shifted around, making himself more comfortable. "There was this kid a few years back. Last year of middle school. You see, his family wasn't from here; they were from a small town called Gongaga. You know Gongaga? It's backwater as hell. Well, the kid and his family went back one summer, the year before he was set to begin high school."

Reno chucked the remains of his cigarette on the ground and crushed it under his heel.

"See, the kid had an older brother, and that brother had an old friend. But the friend, well, he was into all sort of things, if you know what I mean. Always ready to try the new stuff. One day around the end of vacations, the kid's brother gets a call. His friend is wasted at a party, he's sick, someone should come get him—the usual shit. So the kid and his brother go together. And hey, the kid wanders around outside while the brother goes to get his friend."

He took out a new cigarette.

"And what does the kid see? An old man dealing drugs to the brother's friend, who can barely stand up. The old man leaves, the friend goes inside, the brother comes back empty-handed. Can't find his friend, he says." Reno shrugged, as much into the story was Tifa was. "What do you know, the next day the headlines read something like, 'Seventeen Kids Die from New, Illegal Experimental Drug'. Said drug's called _mako_. No one can find who's the culprit who sold it. Case's a dead end. But there's one kid who knows the truth, remember.

"That kid comes back in time when school starts. And during the first years assembly, guess who he sees standing on the stage, giving a speech? Yeah, that's right. The old man. So the kid makes sure to do as much trouble as possible to be sent to see the principal. Once in there, it's a touching reunion, as you can imagine. Lots of tears from the old man as the kid tells his side of the story. And the rest is history."

And all Tifa could find to say was, "Zack blackmailed Shinra?"

"Did you truly expect it to be otherwise?"

"Well, I dunno. I didn't—I don't know, it's just so _strange_."

She brought her knees to her chest. She let her head fall against the wall. "So I guess it's Shinra or his son who give Zack the drugs?"

Reno seemed taken aback at this. "You've met the Boss?"

"The what?"

"Lots of people call Rufus that. It's his name, by the way."

"Yeah, I figured." A pause. "Wow. That's a lot of information. Why the drug dealing, though?"

"Prevents other people from establishing a drug territory here. If it's controlled it means less trouble with the force. It's all calculated, yo."

"I bet," Tifa mumbled. She raked a hand through her hair. Blackmail, drug dealing and God knew what else. She so hadn't expected to be caught into all that. "How the hell do you guys manage all that stuff?"

"Magic."

"_Reno_."

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. We meet often. Make sure everything's secure, if you will. Tighten a few loose screws once in a while. Like you saw today."

"Uh. Okay. Okay."

He smirked, but didn't add anything else for a few minutes, and neither did she. She let what she had just learned sink in, realizing how it fit with everything she had seen since the beginning of the school year. The control over teachers, the keys to the school, the getting away with everything. It made sense, in a twisted sort of way.

"Yo, heads up. Cloud's coming this way."

"What?" She sat up straight, alert. She wasn't sure she was ready to see him right after discovering all this.

Cloud got closer, and he greeted them, smiling. Tifa thought that his smile got gentler when he looked her way, but she dismissed it as a trick of her imagination.

"You're not off celebrating?" Reno threw him his cigarette pack.

Both Cloud and Tifa stilled. And she had believed they weren't supposed to let Cloud and the others knew they had spied on them. Wasn't that the chief rule of spying?

Cloud's expression quickly morphed into an angry one, and he kicked Reno in the shin.

"You fucking idiot!"

"Shit, Strife!" Reno clutched his probably bruised leg.

"He wasn't meant to know?" Tifa blurted out

Cloud stared at her in bewilderment. "No, you weren't!"

Her eyes widened. "Jesus, calm down."

"I also told her about the Shinra thing," Reno said, voice strained.

"What the hell?"

"Not helping," Tifa said dryly.

"What, I thought you should know! And I thought he should know that you know!"

"Did you even ask Zack before?"

"Zack ain't my boss, yo. Tifa deserves to know, so I took charge."

Cloud's jaw clenched, but he didn't protest.

"Come one, Cloud, it's not that big of a deal."

Tifa got up and approached him. She grabbed his arm and tugged. "You know how much it was bugging me. I'll feel better this way."

His features slackened, and he let his head fall on her shoulder. "I just didn't want you to know.

"Why?"

"I just didn't."

Reno cleared his throat. "Well, that's very touching, but you really had to hit me?"

"You're damn lucky I didn't beat you up."

"_Right_. Like you would win or something."

Cloud lifted his head. He was glaring. "I would."

Tifa rolled her eyes. "Why don't you guys wrestle in the mud to settle this. I'll take my leave." She turned around and walked away. "Thanks for the story, Reno," she said over her shoulder.

"My pleasure!"

She heard a sound that was suspiciously similar to someone being hit (or kicked) followed by a cry of pain, and then Cloud was jogging to catch up with her.

"You didn't have to hit him again."

"Yes, I did," he said so seriously it nearly made her laugh. "I still don't think he should have told you that."

She began to head in the direction of her house, thinking Cloud would stop and go to his car, but he kept up with her.

"I'm okay, Cloud. I think I'm old enough to handle that." She side-eyed him.

He let out a long, tired sigh. "Yeah, I know. But I don't want you to be part of all this. You shouldn't be. It's shitty, anyway."

That made the corner of her lips lift in a small smile.

"Look at this way, now I won't ask annoying questions anymore!"

"Ah, come on, you weren't that annoying."

"Just a little bit?"

"Just a little bit."

"Guess I can live with that. And it's not like you have to treat me any different, Cloud. I won't rub my super newfound knowledge in your face. That's not like me."

"I know, I know. Actually, you're probably the best person to be let known. You won't go shout it atop a roof." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Guess I was being selfish by not wanting you to know."

"Well, in a way it's a nice kind of selfish."

"How's that?"

"It's sorta like you wanted to protect me." The words sounded too intimate for her, so she quickly added, "So I wouldn't be scared. Like Yuffie, you know."

"Maybe," he grumbled, closing the subject, but his cheeks had a slight tinge of pink. He was embarrassed! The concept made her grin. She bumped him with her hip.

"Thanks. You helped me so much even though I was such a bitch to you."

He lit his own cigarette, and Tifa started to think she would end up sick from all the secondhand smoke. "I could tell you weren't really one. That's why I bothered."

Her house loomed into view.

"Thanks for that too," she said softly.

His cheeks went from pink to red.

They both came to a stop.

"I gotta head back to get my car." He said it like it was the only thing that came to his mind.

"Don't let me stop you. See you tomorrow."

Just as she was about to unlock her door, she heard him call out her name. "Yeah?"

"It's just that…tomorrow, well, you'll see what happens, but I want you to know—I did it for you."

His eyes lingered on her for a couple seconds more as he backed away, and then he turned a corner and he was gone.

—

Tifa had almost forgotten about Cloud's last comment until she got to school the next day. As soon as she got on the grounds, Jordan fell in stride with her, a huge smirk on his face.

"I got awesome news for ya, miss."

"Long time no see."

"Yeah, yeah. But you need to hear this. Scarlett got thrown out."

"_Seriously?_ How come?"

"Someone tipped Shinra that she kept drugs in her locker. I mean, I knew she was using 'cause my bro sold to her, but I never guessed she'd be stupid enough to keep them here."

She stayed speechless.

"What, aren't you happy that bitch is gone?"

She shook her head as if she was coming out of a daze. "No, I mean, yeah, I am. I hated her guts."

They walked in the school. Cloud was standing near the entrance with a few guys. He held her gaze for a few seconds before turning away, but not before she noticed his tiny self-satisfied smile.

_I want you to know—I did it for you._

—

**A/N:** This chapter was initially part of a huge one, but when I outlined it a few days ago, I saw there was _way_ too much content for one chapter, so I divided it into two parts. Turns out it's a bit shorter than my usual chapters, but it'll do. All I can say is, look forwards to the next one…hohohoho!

**Kisses!:  
**Iris Irine, NielleRie, GigiThECraZyxsilentAnna, JukedSolid, Amber, Hegodart, BananaPeaceMonkeyKarmi, Guest, DivineKitten, D, Darth Nihilion, FinalxFenrir, Brandnewlacey, thedoggydog2, IshidaH, sourhead, & demonegg!

**IshidaH: **Well, it's hard to tell because I suppose most schools have different dynamics, but I also only went to private schools, and in mine, there was that much drinking and swearing. I'm sort of using it as a model as far as school behaviour goes. I'm glad you liked my interpretation of Aerith. I feel like she's often portrayed as too nice, and it actually makes her less appealing as a character to me. I like to think she has some flaws like every human being!

**Brandnewlacey: **A Montreal friend! Merci de me laisser un review! Je suis contente que tu aimes mon histoire. Si jamais tu décides de laisser d'autres commentaires, tu peux très bien les écrire en français si c'est plus facile pour toi; ça fait rien pour moi ;) Merci encore!

**JukedSolid: **I left the details of Shelke vague intentionally because I felt like it fit the context of the chapter more. But she was basically tortured and raped in her bed. It was Vincent who found the body, though. And of course, I can't tell you who are the suspects yet, hohoho!

**Gigi: **September, really? Yay! *does happy dance* Man, I've been starving for some new Epik High recently. And yes, I do know "Bad". It's one of my favourite songs, actually! And I don't mind long reviews, I looooooove them! Make them as long as possible, haha.

**demonegg: **Look at me, updating before a one-year lapse! Haha, I kid, I kid (no, but seriously). I think it's the cabin's fresh air, yo. It's like, inspirational, woohoo. And send me a picture of that cat!

**FAQ!**

**Q: **_Does Cloud have something do to with Lucrecia's death_?

**A: **Well, I can't really tell you more, can I? ;)

**Q: **_Tifa will be in the middle of the whirlwind now, right?_

**A: **Oh, yes, she will….


	19. texting, drinking, and screaming

**Chapter 19: **_texting, drinking, and screaming._

—

**A/N: **another quick update! Have fun while it lasts, haha! I'm spoiling you guys.

—

_Quit ignoring me._

_You can't avoid me forever._

_You're one of the only friend I can count on. _

_Please don't push me away like that. _

All this texting was giving Tifa a headache.

From the other side of the library, Vincent didn't move a finger when his phone vibrated several times. But Tifa knew he would pick it up eventually. Oh, yes, she knew. After all, this was the third day since she had started harassing him. She wasn't entirely sure if 'harassing' really was the word, but that was what it was starting to feel like.

At least she hadn't resorted to stalking. Yet.

Vincent hadn't talked to her once since Miss Crescent's death, about a week and a half ago. He didn't show up to Science class and was barely seen on school grounds. Apparently, Aerith had tried to go see him at his house, but he had been conveniently absent.

In Tifa's opinion, this was all getting ridiculous. Sure, he needed time to cope, she understood that; but did he really have to do it all alone? He was nearly isolating himself.

_Please, Vincent, at least just tell me how you're doing…_

She sent the message, keeping her eyes on his back. No movement. It made her want to throw her phone in frustration, but she settled on flipping it open and close repeatedly until someone glared at her. She rolled her eyes and stopped. She crossed her arms, resuming her silent observation.

He finally plunged a hand in his jacket's pocket to retrieve his phone. Tifa sat up straight, anticipation coursing through her body. She almost pumped her fist up in victory when he started typing.

_Sorry._

That was it? She raised an eyebrow. Another message came in.

_I'm just…angry._

Her shoulders dropped and her throat suddenly felt parched.

Of course, she had considered that possibility. The one where Vincent might be mad at her because she could have called for help before he came in. Just like that cop Sephiroth had said. Her nightmares had changed since that encounter a week ago. Most of the times now she was paralyzed, unable to move or speak as Miss Crescent called out for her help, coughing blood and choking and reaching out with twisted, bony fingers. She swallowed hard.

_I'm sorry, it's my fault. I should have called for help._

_What? No. I'm not angry with you._

The weight on her heart lifted a little. Well, that was a relief. Sort of.

_I never thought you'd think about it this way. Sorry about that. _

_It's fine. I'm just worried about you._

_I feel angry, that's all._

_But with whom?_

_Everyone. It's like anger 24/7._

Tifa paused before replying. She had been certain he would be sad, depressed, or something along these lines, but anger? Towards Miss Crescent perhaps, she thought. Mad at her for ending her life. At himself for not getting there earlier. It was hard to tell why he would be angry with 'everyone'.

_So…I'm guessing you want some space…?_

_Yes. Sorry if it bothers you, but that's what I really need right now. _

_It's okay. At least now I know why. _

_Thank you. _

The bell rang, and Tifa left right away without looking his way.

It was time to set things straight.

To her, Vincent's anger seemed unreasonable in the context of a suicide, but not as much in that of a murder. A murder that could have been stopped, she theorized, with the knowledge of the elite, maybe. Cloud was so convinced it was suicide that his words rang false. As if he was trying to convince himself as much as he was her. Then, there was Zack being angry at the news. Why would a suicide trouble him? And most of all, why did Vincent burn down the house, specifying that it was so 'they wouldn't have her'? Who was 'they'? Cloud seemed to know. He seemed to understand _why_.

Tifa sat down in Mechanics next to Reno, who winked her way. Cid was already distributing something and barking orders around.

Cloud knew. And if she wanted to find out what the fuck was going here, she had to enlist his help.

It was time to form a plan. First, she'd have to get him alone, someplace where they wouldn't be interrupted—

"Lockheart!"

She jumped in her seat. "What the hell?"

Cid slammed a paper on her desk. He smirked. "Grades for that project. Find Biggs and show him." He moved on to Reno. "Here, _yo_." He let the paper fall on the desk, and it slid off.

"Yo, watch it!"

Cid slapped him behind the ears. "Respect, kid. Goddamn respect."

Tifa hid her smile. Well, maybe she could count on Highwind as a last resort ally.

—

She hadn't managed to get Cloud alone that day, but she would make sure to do so the next. In order not to miss him, she hurried after gym, got outside before most people had even gotten out of classes, and found his car in the parking lot. She leaned against it, smoothed down her dress—congratulating herself for wearing tights in the cold weather in the process—and waited. She was aware that Cloud had a tendency to leave school rather early to do God knows what, so she didn't expect she'd have to stand around for too long. And she didn't. Hardly ten minutes later, Cloud was walking down the school steps alone and heading in her direction. He froze when he noticed her, and then resumed walking.

"I need a ride home."

"Really?" He looked amused. She was glad he didn't mention the fact that her house was a fifteen minutes walk from here.

"Yeah. Hurt my foot in Phys Ed. They let me out early," she lied. She stuck out her foot and pretended not to be able to move it too much. "Ouch."

Cloud sighed, but there was a smile peeking at the corner of his lips.

"Okay, yeah, get in."

She did, not minding to limp to follow through with her story. Her pseudo cover was blown, anyway.

They both stayed silent during the drive. Tifa revised her plan in her head. It wasn't a very elaborate one, being more along the lines of pestering him until he caved in. But she figured that he'd do it in the end. Refusing would basically be like admitting that he was hiding something.

They came to a stop in front of her house. She was surprised to see her Dad's car in the driveway. Cloud put out the engine, and let himself fall back in his seat, looking her way.

"So, I'm guessing you want something?" He still hadn't lost the amused expression.

Tifa unbuckled her seatbelt in order to get more comfortable. She leaned forward a bit.

"Okay, you know how I feel about what happened to Miss Crescent—"

"_Teef_," he groaned.

"No, wait, listen to me! There's something wrong with it. It just doesn't fit!"

"Tifa, _you_ told me she had slit her wrists. It's suicide!"

"Alright, alright, just…let me finish, okay?"

He ran both hands over his face, obviously exasperated. "Go ahead."

"You have to know—I'm not trying to bug you, but you and Vince are the only ones I can trust with this, and, well, he's not available right now."

He chuckled. "Available?"

"Wrong word. More like…I can actually talk to you." _In more ways than one_, she thought. "But forget about that. Let's go back to my plan—"

"_Your plan_?"

"Jesus, will you let me finish?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, go on."

She started to speak quickly in case he would cut her off again. "There was someone in the house. I know it, okay? The timing's off; she knew we were coming. Why would Vincent burn down the house? And he was afraid of calling—"

She never saw it coming. One second she was listing off suspicious elements, and the next, Cloud was kissing her.

Kissing her.

Her.

The girl who had made his life hell for a few weeks.

It didn't last long. Tifa was so taken aback that she didn't move an inch. Neither did Cloud. It was the most awkward kiss Tifa had ever had.

As if he had suddenly realized what he was doing, Cloud jerked away. He hit the steering wheel and turned his head away from her. "Fuck."

_Tell me about it_.

Tifa gaped at him. His neck and cheeks were getting red.

"Did you just fucking kiss me to shut me up?"

"No! I dunno, I reacted, I thought—"

"You thought _what_?"

"I dunno!"

He rested his forehead against the window. "Fuck. I screwed up."

Tifa wasn't sure if he had. But at the moment, all she could see was how embarrassed he was, and it took a lot of effort to keep in her laughter. Luckily, she didn't blush that easily.

He rubbed his cheek impatiently. "You can laugh."

"I wouldn't." A snicker escaped her. "Oops." She slapped a hand to her mouth.

"Right," Cloud mumbled.

"No, Cloud, it's because—I mean, you're so damn _red_. Please tell me that ain't your first kiss."

"No!" Cloud twisted around, rummaging through the back of his car. "Where the fuck's my cap?"

"Want to hide your blushing cheeks?"

The look he gave her was cold, but it only made her grin.

His ears were now red. She almost poked him to see how hot his skin would feel. "Would you mind just…leavin' me alone."

His words erased every last bit humour in Tifa. She hadn't exactly had the most desirable reaction. She stared at him, the kiss slowly sinking into her mind. Oh, god, she had been kissed by Cloud Strife. A sentiment of slight panic began to build up; she was fidgeting. She needed to get out of there fast.

"Well, okay. Alright, um, see you tomorrow?"

She had one hand on the door handle, waiting for his answer. It took him a few seconds to notice, and when he did he only muttered, "Sure." She got out of the car. Cloud immediately sped off.

As soon as he turned the corner, Tifa opened her bag to look for her small mirror. She observed her reflection. Obviously, nothing had changed. Expect for the redness that was making its late appearance. She sat down on her porch and rested her chin on her right hand.

Right.

Cloud apparently liked her. In a romantic way.

In retrospect, she couldn't honestly say she was that surprised; all the little gestures of physical affection, him being particularly concerned by what she thought of him, his constant presence when she needed help. It did add up, but Tifa still couldn't wrap her head around it. _Cloud_, of all people. If someone had told her that at the beginning of the school year, she would have found herself in hysterics.

She allowed herself a small smile. Well, she could certainly do much, much worse than Cloud. And she couldn't deny that she didn't feel at least a little something for him, too, especially during the last two weeks or so. She was pretty sure they could make it together.

But she had no clue what a relationship with someone like Cloud would entail. He kept so many secrets, and not just regarding the elite. Could she really be with someone she didn't truly know?

Then again, maybe _this _was the opportunity she had been searching for. A way to find out what was really happening. It was sort of like infiltration. Taking the organization from the inside. Only less dramatic.

Which meant that she had to put her plan into actions. Or plans. She could just combine them. The opening was too good to let it slip away.

She checked her watch. He should be home by now. They lived close. Tifa inhaled deeply before dialling Cloud's number. He answered on the last ring.

"What it is?" He sounded grumpy. It made her smile even more.

"I was going to invite you over. So we can sort things out. You know, have a drink and talk."

Silence on the other line. Then, "I work until seven thirty."

"That's okay, it's just for a chat."

"Well…Alright. I'll be there."

"Great! See ya," she said, voice low. She hanged up.

Mission accomplished.

Tifa closed her eyes. She hadn't lied when she said they could have a drink. She would definitely need more than one before the night was over.

—

Cloud slid his phone in his pocket. He had been sitting for a good five minutes in his car, right outside his house. He knew his face was still all red, and he dreaded going inside and facing his cousin. Answering questions would be too embarrassing. He groaned in frustration for what felt like the thousand time that day.

And now Tifa had just told him she wanted him to come over. To have a drink. He didn't think it would end well. He figured she probably wanted to pester him some more about Lucrecia. Also to talk about that fucking kiss. What the hell had he been thinking?

He finally entered his house. Unfortunately, Aerith was sitting right in the kitchen. She barely lifted her head, but she was smirking. Damn it.

"Good day?"

"Peachy."

"You sound like Tifa," she remarked casually.

"Uh, right."

He nearly ran upstairs, grabbed an old black T-shirt, and went in the bathroom to change. Aerith was definitely unto something. She had some sixth sense like that. And predictably, she was waiting for him when he got back in his room, sitting in his swivelling chair and filling her nails. Cloud resisted the urge to bash his head against the doorframe.

"Something happen with Tifa?" She didn't even look at him.

Cloud debated whether or not he should tell. On one hand she would help him sort out his feelings; on the other, she would do so by teasing him mercilessly in some way. You never knew with Aerith.

He let himself fall at her feet, facing the door. "Something might have."

She started to play in his hair. It was one of their old habitude from childhood.

"Something that didn't go too well?"

"Something that might have to do with a, uh, kiss."

Her hands stilled. He could hear her repressing laughter.

"Really? Was it good at least?"

"It was the worst, believe me. I took her by surprise."

"That's strange, Tifa's usually a good mood reader." He had the feeling she was braiding his hair, but he couldn't tell for sure. It made him frown.

"Well, let's just say she was talking and I reacted."

"Talking about what, Cloud?"

He licked his lips. "Uh, Lucrecia?"

Aerith smacked the back of his head. "Ouch!"

"You wanted her to shut up? I can't believe you! It's basically the worst way to make your feelings known!"

"Alright, I hear you, okay? Shit, you hit hard, woman."

She made a sound that signalled her annoyance. "Why did you do it?"

"Fuck, I don't know. She was there, talking her head off and I wanted her to stop, but I didn't want to argue with her. It was like…instincts?"

"Instincts?"

"Yeah."

"Cloud."

"What!"

"That's the stupidest excuse I ever heard. Just admit you wanted to kiss her."

"I still don't know about that." He began to play around with his phone, as if it would distract from the subject.

"You don't like her?" Her tone was motherly. It was so Aerith. After his mother had died, Elmyra had become their guardian, but it was Aerith who had become the real mother figure to him and Denzel. She had always been there for them even though she was younger than he was. Always ready to help, to reassure, to give advice.

"I guess I do…" He stopped to think about it. "I mean, I think I do. She's gorgeous, smart, curious—you know, I should hate that she's curious, but no, I like it. It's so troublesome."

Aerith gave a short sigh. "I thought Zack was troublesome, too, at first."

"That's because he is," Cloud deadpanned.

"Watch it, mister."

"Sure…"

A comfortable silence fell between the two. Cloud looked at the time to make sure he wouldn't be late to go help Cid. He needed to leave soon. Aerith shifted in the chair, and he knew she had had the same thought as him.

"She's the first girl who's ever caught my attention since Mom died," he said quietly.

Aerith squeezed his shoulder in answer. He recognized it as her way to say 'go for it'.

"Thanks."

She got up and headed for the door.

"Oh, don't thank me yet."

He suddenly remembered that she had been playing in his hair. "Wha—" He ran a hand through it, only to find it in multiple little braids. "Aerith!"

"You look lovely, Miss Cloud." She winked as she left his room.

Great. Now he would be late in order to unravel all the plaits. She had done the same to Denzel during the summer. He should have seen it coming.

He fixed his hair as quickly as possible, then picked up a backpack and shoved a change of clothes in it, knowing that he would need it before heading to Tifa's. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should dress up a bit. Her Dad's car had been in the driveway, and there was no way to tell if he would be there tonight. Since he was only going over for a chat. He shook his head, dissipating the thought. Finally, he picked a simple plaid button up to wear over a clean shirt.

"Get it together, Strife," he whispered to himself.

All set up, he drove to the school, and walked towards the back of the building, in the direction of the auto shop. He helped Cid there a few days a week, helping students and sometimes tinkering on projects of his own. It hadn't started as a job, but after a year, Cid had insisted on paying him. It had taken him a while to accept it, but after a lot of yelling, he had given in. Not that Cid really treated him like a student. More like his personal assistant. And verbal punching bag occasionally. It didn't bother Cloud; he liked it when people didn't act all scared because of the invisible 'elite' stamp he seemed to carry everywhere. Which is why, he reflected, he probably took such an interest in Tifa. Thinking about her made him blush again. _Fuck_. If Cid noticed, he was done for.

He immediately went for the office at the back of the garage to drop his bag. He flinched when he saw Cid was there, going through papers in a folder.

"Strife, hey. Get me a goddamn cigarette."

"Right away." Cloud got his pack out from his jacket. He took one for Cid and one for himself. "There you go."

"Good." He put the folder back into a drawer. "Today you're gonna help students who failed a project. Goddamn kids who don't listen to instruct—why the hell are you so red? You sick or something?"

Fuck. Cloud almost ran out of the office.

"No. It's nothing." He cleared his throat, cursing his inability to hide his uneasiness.

"Don't say it's nothing, kid." Cid scrutinized him. His mouth fell open. "Did you get a girlfriend?"

"No!" _Maybe_.

"Goddamn it, it's Lockheart, isn't it?" Cid clapped his hands, guffawing. "Shit!"

Cloud stood still, feeling his face warm anew. "She's not my girlfriend."

"But you put a move on her?"

"You know what, Cid, it's none of your business!"

Cid snorted. "Ah, you're right, kid. Go do your job. And try not to fantasize too much while doing it."

"Fuck off!" Cloud punched the wall on his way out, getting angry.

A student who had been waiting in front of the office jumped.

"What?" Cloud barked.

The smaller guy shook his head and stepped aside.

"Sorry."

"No, it's—"

"_Sorry_."

"A-alright."

Cloud closed his eyes for a second to regain his calm. His phone rang. It was Zack.

"No calls from your girlfriend," Cid yelled.

He was absolutely grabbing a drink with Tifa after this.

—

Cloud shuffled nervously as he rang the doorbell to Tifa's house. Her Dad's car was still there, and he suddenly felt scared of meeting him. He had never met any of his previous girlfriends' fathers. Most likely because the relationships never lasted long enough. He exhaled loudly. Maybe she would accept to go to the only bar in town. He knew it wouldn't be full of people from school.

He heard her footsteps and stood straighter. She threw the door wide open, looking slightly mad. He gulped.

"_Perfect_ timing, Cloud." She was talking louder than necessary.

"Hey. Um, Teef, do you mind if we head out instead?" He pointed at a random location over his shoulder.

Her face lost its stressful expression. "Not at all. I was going to suggest the same thing. My dad's being an asshole," she added lower.

He nodded as if he understood. He didn't remember his father too well.

"Let me grab my stuff." She disappeared for a minute or two, and he could hear the remains of a heated exchange. She looped her arm through his straightaway when she came back, and dragged him down the porch. He almost tripped.

Her Dad came into view as they crossed the street.

"Tifa! Wait, who's this guy?" It was the first time Cloud had seen him.

"Just ignore him," Tifa muttered. She let go of his arm when they weren't in sight of her house anymore. "So where are we going?"

"There's this bar I go to sometimes. They'll let you in with me."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course."

"Hey, you said you wanted a drink."

"Had one or two already. But I'm definitely up for another."

Cloud guessed that might have been the cause of the argument with her father, but he kept his mouth shut.

They let the silence carry on until they were inside the bar and sitting at the counter. He got a beer for Tifa and another for him. The bartender frowned, but took the order anyway.

"So," Tifa began, "what do you want to talk about first?" She was smirking a little.

He took a long swallow of his beer. "Let's get that shit about Lucrecia out of the way."

"Don't talk about it this way." She gave him a light push. "I'm not kidding when I say I want to know what happened."

"Believe me, I know."

She grinned. "Well, that's peachy. Because I want your help."

He froze. "My _help_?"

"Why not?"

He rubbed his face, contemplating his options. He knew saying no would only appear suspicious. But he already was suspicious, wasn't he?

"I dunno, Teef."

She poked his arm. "You know, you're the only one I let call me Teef."

That prickled his attention. And confidence.

"Really?"

"For some reason it doesn't bother me when it's you." Her smile softened.

A strand of hair fell in her face, and he considered swiping it away, but she did it herself, her expression more business-like again. Or as business-like as she could get with the alcohol in her system. He noticed her beer was already half-empty.

And he had the bad feeling that she was drinking not just for their date,—if he dared to call it that—but to forget. Because she was slowly but surely breaking down. Because it was becoming too much.

"See, I want to help Vincent."

Oh, great. His favourite subject.

"Tifa, we already talked about this."

"No, no, no, we didn't. We didn't. I think that if we find out whether it was"—she lowered her voice, forcing him to lean in to keep on listening—"murder or suicide it will help him. He says he's angry."

He clenched his left hand into a fist. "What else did he say?"

She shrugged. "He said he was angry with everyone. He wants space."

"Right. Everyone." _Us. Himself. _

Tifa looked around to see if they were alone. They were sitting at the end of the counter and the nearest person was three stools away. She kept her voice muted nonetheless. "Please tell me you guys don't have anything to do with it."

"You don't think we killed her, do you?"

"No! I just think you know more than you let on." She was staring intensely at him.

"For the last time, it was suicide, Tifa."

She didn't reply, only finished her drink. Her eyebrows knitted together. She was irritated.

"Didn't you tell me you were tired of this crap? Talking to me could be a good start."

"Look, they confirmed it was suicide. End of the story. I don't want to talk about it anymore. And yeah, sure, I know Vincent. Believe me when I say it won't help him. He'll wallow in self-pity anyway."

"Maybe I don't want to help just Vincent, you know," she said softly.

He sighed. "I'm okay, Tifa."

She reached for his hand. "No, you're not."

"Don't tell me—"

"You're not!" She slammed her free hand on the counter, but accidently hit her beer bottle. Luckily, it was empty. The bartender glared their way. "I can see it. Maybe others can't, but I can. All this—this elite shit, it's like a, I don't know…a double-edged knife, yeah?" She squeezed his hand. "Both sides are sharp edges. You're gonna cut yourself no matter what."

_I already have_.

"And you might already have," she said, reading his thoughts.

He chuckled, burying his face in the crook of his elbow.

"Aren't you being bold today. How many drinks did you have before we got here."

"Two or something. It doesn't matter. It just makes me sleepy."

"How sleepy?"

"Like, in an hour or two, I'll be dead to the world."

He intertwined their fingers as he got up from his seat. He dropped a twenty bill on the counter. "Let's get you home, then."

"Okay." She leaned into his side, and he let go of her hand to wrap an arm around her shoulders.

"So…are we going out?" She raised her head to look at him, eyes wide.

"Let's talk about that when you're sober."

"Okay. But that wasn't a very long date."

He smiled. "Not my best."

"You'll have to do better next time."

"I guess."

The remaining of their walk was spent in comfortable silence. The bar wasn't that far from her house, but by the time they got there, Tifa's eyelids were already drooping.

She unlocked the door. Her father was nowhere in view even though his car was there. It made Cloud both relieved and anxious.

"Come on, let's get you upstairs."

Once in her room, she stumbled over to her bed. "I think that last beer was too much," she laughed.

"Seems like it."

She got up and took of her coat. She was wearing the same dress she had when they first become friends. Tifa caught his stare, and she slowly walked towards him. Her grin was mischievous, but her eyes were drowsy. She wrapped her arms around his waist, underneath his leather jacket. He almost took a step back.

"You know, that kiss was the worst of my life."

He rested his forehead on hers. "I know."

"I'm sure you can do better than that."

"Me too."

A pause. "Aren't you going to kiss me?"

"You're drunk, Teef."

"No," she dragged her 'o'.

"Yes."

"Who cares?" And she kissed him.

It was his turn to be caught by surprise. But he quickly recovered and gently held her face, bringing her closer. She slid her hands under his shirt.

"Tifa," he warned.

"Shut up." She began to kiss his neck.

He heard a door slam in the distance, and he suddenly recalled the additional car parked at the front.

"Fuck!" He pushed Tifa away, who looked confused. He smoothed down his shirt, which had risen up. He glared at her, but she only smiled in response before letting herself fall on her bed.

It didn't take long for her father to appear. He looked livid as he pointed at Cloud. "You. Out!"

Cloud repressed a small smirk. "Yes, sir."

"See you tomorrow," Tifa called as he walked down the stairs and out of the door.

It was only when he got to his car that he allowed a full smile to take over his face. Well, seemed like that awkward kiss hadn't been such a horrible mistake after all. He allowed himself to relive the evening. He would tell Aerith that his instincts had been right. And Zack would totally agree with him.

The thought of Zack made him lose his smile. Right. He had some stuff to do. He propped himself up against his car and called his friend. It went straight to his voicemail. He debated a moment, then dialled Reno's number.

"Yo."

"Hey, you know where Zack is? I can't reach him."

"He's here. His phone's dead apparently."

"Put him on the line," he demanded, voice serious.

"Woah, something happen? You got laid maybe?"

"Stop dicking around, just put Zack on the fucking line."

"Alright, yo. Keep it in your pants."

"Fuck you."

He waited a couple of seconds. There were a lot of voices in the background. They must have been at the café or the mall.

"What it is, Cloud?"

"Vincent's gonna say something to Tifa." He grimaced, feeling guilty.

"Seriously?" The noise got farther away.

"Yeah. He says he's 'angry' and Tifa wants to investigate the situation. It's a recipe for disaster."

"Yeah…I'll talk to Vincent tomorrow."

"Piss him off," Cloud said. "It'll work."

"Alright. You would know."

Cloud ignored the last comment, as he tended to do whenever people around him mentioned his old friend.

"That's all."

"Thanks for letting me know."

_I didn't really have a choice_.

"It's cool. Later."

They hanged up at the same time. Cloud sighed.

Talk about a way to ruin a good evening.

—

Tifa stood in the same spot she had been for the last five minutes, wondering whether or not she should play a prank on Cloud. They hadn't yet talked to each other since yesterday night, although it hadn't been her fault. They had crossed paths after third period as she was leaving the library, and he had looked down and kept on walking. It took her a while to accept that she was hurt by his avoidance. She had hardly been able to concentrate in Mechanics, which hadn't seemed to annoy Cid as it usually should have. He also had had on a shit-eating grin for the whole period, and Tifa wasn't sure she wanted to know why.

It was lunch now, and Cloud had decided to hide in the deepest corner of the library, the same spot she had used all the previous times _she_ had kept away from him and his friends.

Still, she deserved her small revenge.

She plopped herself down in the seat next to him and crossed her arms over her chest. He was listening to music. It reminded her of that time when they were waiting outside Elmyra's office. She removed one of his headphones brusquely.

"The fuck?" He jumped.

"Calm down. It's just me."

"Oh. Hi." He began to gather his stuff unhurriedly. "Feel better?"

Tifa kept as straight a face as she could. "Yeah, about that…I don't remember what happened after we got to the bar."

He stopped moving. His eyes searched her face to see if she wasn't lying. "You're not serious, aren't you?"

She nodded. "Please tell me I didn't do anything embarrassing. Like climbing on a table or something."

He narrowed his eyes, dubious. "No…but you did give me a good show."

She gaped. "You fucker, I would never do that!"

He relaxed. Well, her prank hadn't lasted long. "Sure you did." He let his eyes drop to her chest, but she pushed him before they reached their destination. He chuckled. "Or maybe not."

"I hate you."

"I doubt that."

"Oh, shut up."

"Alright, alright."

She considered asking him why he had been avoiding her this morning, but the bell ringing interrupted her.

"I have to go get my Science stuff," she said as she got up. He followed suit. She hesitated, then hugged him. He buried his face in her neck.

"Later," he whispered. He let her go. She waved goodbye as she left.

The corridors were starting to empty when she got to her locker.

She still couldn't completely believe it. Her and Cloud, a couple. The idea was a bit strange for now, but it certainly made her smile.

She closed her locker and headed towards her classroom. That's when she spotted Vincent who was, curiously, talking with Zack. All of her good mood evaporated. This couldn't be good.

And while she couldn't hear what they were saying, she could tell from Vincent's attitude that the topic disturbed him. He abruptly stepped back and walked away. She called out to him, but he ignored her. He was furious.

She went past Zack as she ran after her friend. His face was neutral. He didn't spare her a glance.

_What the hell?_

Vincent was almost to his car when she burst out of the school.

"Vince! Stop!"

He was about to take out his keys when a small hand grabbed his arm.

"Got him!" Yuffie yelled.

Tifa quickly jogged in their direction. Yuffie let Vincent go. She popped a lollipop in her mouth.

"Why the rush?" She asked.

Vincent wouldn't look their way.

"Leave me alone, Tifa."

"Vincent—"

"Leave me alone!" He shouted.

Tifa stood still a moment, taken aback. Vincent usually talked so softly, it was a shock to hear him raise his voice. She cleared her throat, feelings of anxiety overtaking her. What had Zack said to him?

"Alright," she said gently. "But you're not alone. You have me. I want you to know that."

She signalled at Yuffie to follow her. Vincent got into his car, but didn't drive off immediately.

"What a grouch." Yuffie rolled her eyes. "Well, are you coming back?"

But Tifa didn't feel like going to classes anymore. "No," she said absentmindedly.

"Okay. See you."

Tifa scarcely noticed Yuffie leaving. She was still staring at Vincent's car. When it became obvious that he wouldn't come out even if she were alone, she slowly began walking towards her house. For some reason, what she had just witnessed had struck a cord within her. That wasn't Vincent's normal behaviour. Whatever Zack had said, it had pissed him off immensely. Enough that he wouldn't talk to her.

The confusion stayed with her all the way home. She was stunned to see that her Dad's car was there, but disregarded it. She could always pretend she was sick. He'd get mad, thinking it would be because of the alcohol, but she didn't care. His anger didn't last long. She hoped it was the same with Vincent.

She made her way upstairs, still in a daze. Maybe she could watch a movie to distract herself. She went into the lounge.

She screamed.

—

**A/N: **dundundun!

**Hugs:**

Kaja, Darth Nihilion, Iris Irine, Amber, BonsaiTree, Ciara-Dragon, JukedSolid, BananaPeaceMonkeyKarmi, Brandnewlacey, Numinous-Alqua, Lord Divestre Croft, The Mattster, demonegg, IshidaH, bonnie, & FINALxFenrir7!

**Lord Divestre Croft**: Woah! I feel honoured, haha! I don't really read on ffnet anymore because I don't have much time, but your fics are among my favourites. So I'm super happy you like mine. Thanks for the review :)

FAQ!

**Q: **_Can we have some scenes of Reno and Rude together?_

**A: **Not in the plan so far. But maybe eventually. It wouldn't be too hard to find a spot for one.

**Q: **_Any M-rated scenes later on?_

**A: **I won't say yes, but I won't say no either. I'm not sure yet. The M-rating was always there more the triggering elements like rape and other stuff that's coming. But there's always a possibility, I won't lie about that, hohoho.

**Q: **_Is Tifa gonna be on the receiving end of a possible murder?_

**A: **Ah, I can't answer that!


	20. her father, herself, and his mother

**Chapter 20: **_her father, herself, and his mother  
_

—

It didn't take long for the police to get there. One of the neighbours had heard the gunshot.

Still, Tifa had the time to call them herself, be sick twice, throw her bloodied shoes in the trash bin outside, and read the suicide note at least a hundred times over before they got there. Not that it was a very long note; short and to business, just like her father was—had been.

_Tifa, I'm sorry. I tried. Dad. _

The words stuck with her, and she knew they would forever.

When the cops and the ambulance got there, Tifa was sitting in the kitchen, staring at the piece of paper. They scolded her for removing a piece from the scene upstairs, but it was half-hearted. The one with black hair—Tseng—stayed with her while the Chief went to examine the body. Tseng cleared his throat to get her attention.

"You know I'll have to ask you some questions, right?"

She nodded. What did he mean, he "tried"? Tried to keep on living? After what? Her mom's death?

"Are you sure it's your father's corpse?"

Wasn't it a bit soon to call it a corpse? Or was it the word that should be used as soon as the bullet cracked through the skull and smashed the brain?

She nodded.

"Is there a way for you to identify him, considering the circumstances?"

"The watch. It's his watch. His initials are engraved under it." She pointed to her wrist.

They had fought yesterday. Because she had drank some alcohol and had been kissing a boy in her room. Because she was being irresponsible and on a school night at that! Maybe that's what he meant by "trying". He had tried to live with her, to raise her. But he had said he did love her. She was supposed to be his little girl.

Sephiroth came back down. He was wearing gloves coated with blood.

"Definitely seems to be a suicide," he said solemnly.

Tifa nodded. "Seems to be," she whispered.

He looked her way, eyes filled with sympathy. Tifa thought for a moment that he might be a better person than she had first believed, but then his horrible smile made its appearance.

"My condolences, Miss Lockheart. You haven't been spared these last few weeks."

She didn't answer. She wanted to punch him.

Thankfully, Tseng stepped in. "I don't suppose you know what to do with the house yet, Miss?"

She raised her head, confused. "The house?"

"Do you still wish to stay here, to keep it? Do you have a relative who could take you in? You're under eighteen so you need a guardian's approval to live on your own."

A guardian. Not a parent. A _guardian_.

"There's my uncle. He lives in Midgar."

She stood in the living room as she called her uncle, hearing faint remnants of conversation between Tseng and Sephiroth. They were talking about her and her dad and probably about how weird it was that she had seen two suicides in so little time.

She had to dial the number twice before she got an answer.

"Yes?" Zangan's voice was gruff.

"It's me. Tifa."

"Tifa? What's going on?" He knew she wouldn't call him for nothing.

"Dad killed himself," she said flatly.

Zangan had never too close to his brother. She wasn't sure what kind of reaction to expect from him. What she got was a long silence, followed by an awkward cough.

"Are you alright?"

"I don't know what to do. With the house and the funeral and everything."

"Don't worry, Tifa." His voice was soothing now. Maybe she sounded less calm than she thought she had. "I'll take care of everything."

"Thanks."

"Why don't you come back to Midgar to live with me?"

She stilled, the phone cord twisted around her finger. "What?"

It had never even occurred to her. Return to Midgar? Wasn't that the exact thing she had wanted all along? Away from the elite and the wolves and Nibelheim. Away from Vincent and Aerith and Zack. Away from Cloud.

If she was in Midgar, she'd never know what was going on in Nibelheim.

It was as if she had a moment of clarity, an escape from her daze.

"I can't."

"You know I won't force you, but it'd be easier this way." He paused. "I won't convince you, will I?"

She shook her head even if he couldn't possibly see her. "No. I'm staying here."

He let out a long sigh. "Alright. Let me think about what we can do."

"Let's sell the house," she blurted out.

"Well, yes, I don't think I could hold unto it. But I—we can't decide all of this immediately. Why don't I come to see you in January, right after Christmas? Can you find a place to live until then?"

She definitely could, that she was sure of. She thought back to the Strife-Gainsborough house, full of warmth and life.

"Yes."

Another sigh, of relief this time. "That's good. I'll call you back on your cellphone tonight; I'm at work right now. The number hasn't changed, has it?"

"No. It's the same."

"Perfect. We'll talk more later, Tifa." He hung up. She did the same.

It didn't take long for the cops to crowd around her. "Is everything settled?"

She nodded. Seemed like the only thing she could do.

"I'll be staying with a friend for a while."

Obviously wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible, Sephiroth took out a notepad and a pen, all the while heading for the door. At the same time, the men carrying her father's body came down the stairs. Tifa clenched her eyes shut until they walked out. The door stayed open, and this time she watched as they hauled the body in the ambulance and disappeared in the distance.

"The address, Miss Lockheart?" Sephiroth held the pen in her direction.

"Sure." She wrote down Cloud's address, hoping it was right. She had never paid too much attention, but then again, it's not like there were that many streets in Nibelheim.

Tseng and Sephiroth exchanged a wary look. "That is Cloud Strife's address."

"I know."

Sephiroth folded the paper and put it away in his breast pocket. "You should stay away from him and his friends, Miss Lockheart. They are bad news."

She nodded, not really caring. Maybe she would have in a different context.

Tseng handed her a card. The police station's direct number was there, along with their names and some other information. Tifa crumpled it in her hand.

"Another thing," Tseng said, "do you want us to notify the school? There's only three weeks until Christmas, but I'm sure they'll give you a leave if we ask them."

She nodded again. Her head felt heavy, and if she didn't bother holding it high, it'd probably be bobbing endlessly.

"Then we will once we get back to the station. Thank you for your cooperation." She shook hands with Tseng. Sephiroth hadn't removed his gloves full of her father's blood, and he only inclined his head in farewell. They sped off in their car, leaving her in a truly empty house.

Tifa stood still in the doorway for a few seconds, then went to grab her keys, her bag, and new boots, considering how her other shoes were finished; she locked the front door and set off in direction of the school.

Her mind was surprisingly vacant during the walk. She relived the scene where she discovered the body; blood had been splattered all over the walls, pooling on the ground; her shoes had made a soft, squelching sound as she entered the room, a warning she hadn't heeded; and in centre of it, her father, half of his face torn off, a revolver she hadn't known he owned to his side, suit now dyed a dark red. The note on the table.

The school didn't loom into view rapidly enough in Tifa's opinion.

She found Cloud's car easily; it was always parked near the front. Classes would end soon.

She'd probably hear from Shinra tonight. Or from his secretary. Whichever. She doubted he'd give her three weeks off, seeing as they had examinations right before Christmas break. She wasn't sure she even wanted three weeks off.

Hopefully Elmyra would accept to take her in. She didn't think a refusal would occur, but having a plan B never hurt anyone. She hoped Zack or Jordan would say yes in that case. It's not like Vincent was a viable choice right now.

Tifa began to play a game on her phone, leaning on the car. Trying to keep her mind occupied. Distracted.

Tomorrow's headlines in the _Nibelheim Post_ would most likely read 'Men Kills Himself in His House on November 29th'. It had in Miss Crescent's case. Not much happened in Nibelheim.

She stopped playing. It didn't change anything. She hoped the bell would ring soon.

The more she reflected on it, the more she felt as though she had a part to play in her father's death. They had never gotten along much; he had made some efforts and she hadn't; they always fought or never spoke to the other. Perhaps her mother's death had had a bigger impact on him than she had first believed. Perhaps he had wanted to die for a long time, but had kept on living for her sake. Until he realized it wasn't worth it. Or that she wasn't worth it. She didn't know and never would. That was what hurt the most.

Students started to stream out of the doors. She willed herself to appear composed. Calm. Not a mess.

She thought an eternity elapsed before Cloud finally appeared. He was talking with Chandler; she wanted to be alone with him. They headed her way.

"Hey." Cloud's smile was soft. For him not to ask questions, her façade had to be damn close to perfect.

"Hi."

"Well, hello," Chandler smirked. It was half-hearted. She didn't stop to wonder why. "I heard the news."

"Oh. I didn't think it would spread so fast."

"Of course it would."

Cloud grabbed her hand. "We have to get going. Got something planned."

Or maybe it wasn't perfect at all.

He waited until they were in the car before interrogating her.

"What's going on?"

She rested her chin on her fist, and looked out of the window.

"Can we go somewhere we'll really be alone? Like some sort of secret hide-out of yours?"

He turned left and went towards the woods. He drove into a narrow, bumpy road that eventually reached a small lake. Tifa had a hunch that not many people knew about this place.

She sat, her back supported by the car; Cloud shrugged on his jacket and stood near the shore.

"It's getting fucking cold." He blew warm air on his hands.

"Yup. It's almost December."

"I'm guessing it'll snow soon. Damn."

"Hmm."

He walked back to her side and sat down. She climbed in his lap, her back to his chest.

"What's up?"

She crossed her arms, wondering how to say it. Awareness was gradually returning, and she found herself wishing for that shocked state once again, the one where she could only nod and went around on auto-pilot.

A sob escaped her.

"Shit, Tifa, what happened?" Cloud leant forward to see her face, but she turned away, hiding behind her hands.

She managed to speak, words punctuated by hiccups. "My Dad killed himself."

Cloud didn't say anything, knowing better than anyone that there was nothing to say. He cradled her head to his chest and hugged her closer as she cried.

Later, once she had calmed down, she asked him about staying at his house; she waited in the car as he called Elmyra, apparently not having to argue for very long. Tifa stared at him, noting how weary he looked, how his shoulder drooped, and his back was slightly bent. She wondered if taking care of her like he had since September was exhausting. But then he got back inside and gave a reassuring smile, and all she could think about was how glad she was that he had persisted on getting along with her.

"It's all settled. We have a spare room that you can sleep in."

"Thanks."

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing."

"If you say so." He turned the engine on. They left the woods behind.

—

_Everything was dark. _

_But it was a peculiar shade of black. Maybe not even black. A deep, deep red. _

_She was swimming in it. Drowning. _

_Something was floating nearby. She could hold unto it. _

_Instead, the moment she touched it, she began to sink. _

_It was her father's corpse, dragging her down. She let out a scream—_

"Tifa! Tifa!"

She woke up crying. Aerith was sitting next to her, shaking her shoulders, face etched into a worried frown. She soothed Tifa's damp hair back from her forehead.

"It's just a nightmare, sweetie."

Tifa gasped for air, slowly regaining control. _No, it's not._

The first night after her father's death, she hadn't slept. Shinra himself had called Cloud's house to talk to her, telling her she could take off as much time as she needed from school before Christmas break, saying they would organize something in regard to the examinations after she returned. It was now the second night.

Elmyra had been more than welcoming, tears running down her face as she held Tifa tightly. Aerith had been standing tall and strong, and Tifa knew she was ready to help at any moment. Denzel had held her hand all night, probably remembering his mother's own suicide. They had given her a room on the second floor, next to Denzel's. It was small, but so much better than her house. She hadn't even returned yet to get clothes. Cloud had given her a bunch of oversized T-shirts, Aerith had let her know she had unrestricted access to her closet, and she had been washing her underwear everyday. She was delaying the inevitable as much as possible.

Aerith rummaged through the pile of clothes on a chair, settling on one of Cloud's shirt. "You should get changed." She glanced at the open doorway. "I'll leave you alone." She closed the door as she left.

Tifa breathed in deeply in order to erase all remaining traces of the nightmare, not fully succeeding. She slipped the clean shirt on.

"You can come in," she called out as she redid her braid.

Cloud shut the door behind him. "You okay?"

She ran a hand over her face. The tear tracks had already dried. "Yeah. Peachy."

He scoffed as he sat next to her. She let herself fall against him.

"Want me to stay with you?"

She closed her eyes.

"Yeah."

"Okay."

His voice was so low she had to strain her ear to hear him.

She lay on her belly, and him on his back. The bed was a bit too small for the two of them.

"How did you deal with it?"

"Badly," he said huskily.

"It makes for bad memories, doesn't it?"

"Tell me about it."

She contemplated telling him about her dream, or her feelings of guilt. Instead, she pretended to sleep as his breathing began to even out and his body slackened.

"Is it normal that I feel responsible?" She whispered.

There was no answer. She didn't expect one.

The first two weeks flashed by. Tifa found herself getting more and more numb. She stayed in the house, doing chores and watching TV all day. She discovered that she absolutely needed noise around her, but couldn't stand crowds; she had her earphones on practically all day. When it became obvious that the nightmares wouldn't leave her, she abandoned her room for Cloud's; Elmyra didn't comment on it. The whole family gave her the distance she needed, but were all ready to comfort her in one way or the other the moment she gave a sign of weakness.

As she had predicted, her father's suicide had made the headlines. Three days later, all of the elite had come to see her, and while Tifa was happy to see their concern, she didn't feel like being around too many people. She hadn't heard from Vincent.

Which was why she was so astounded when Elliott rang the doorbell in the middle of a Thursday, a week before Christmas; behind him was Jordan dragging Vincent towards the house. Cloud's house, at that.

"Took us a while to get him in the car," Jordan yelled, all smiles. "Sorry for the delay."

Tifa felt as though she might explode from the turmoil inside her. She wanted to hug her three friends, punch Vincent, cry, shout.

"You bastard," she said in Vincent's direction, a few tears rolling down her cheeks. "You fucking bastard."

He dropped his head, but she had seen the pain on his face. Jordan and Elliott backed a few steps to give them some privacy. "Sorry."

"Everyone came to see me except for you."

"I know."

"I thought you weren't angry with me."

"I wasn't. I'm not. I didn't know what I would say."

"You bastard," she repeated, hugging him. He froze, just like the first time, then held her back.

"Sorry."

She heard someone clapping in the background—no doubt it was Jordan. The corners of her mouth lifted upwards. Jordan gasped.

"She smiled!"

"Shut up," Elliott muttered.

"No, it's great news!"

Tifa chuckled. "Thanks guys."

"Group hug!"

Jordan jumped on her, dragging Vincent and Elliott along with him. They all fell to the ground.

"Fuck, who hit me?"

"My glasses!"

"There they—oh, shit, Perkins. Sorry."

"My _glasses_!"

Tifa slowly got to her feet, watching Elliott scramble to gather what was left of his precious spectacles, Vincent looking guilty, and Jordan rubbing the back of his head. The smile wouldn't leave her face.

Maybe it wouldn't be all that bad.

—

_Hey Notebook,_

_Been a while, hasn't it? Guess I've been busy. Or just didn't feel like thinking about certain things. _

_Today is Christmas. I'm spending it Cloud's house. We just had dinner. It was delicious. I don't have much time actually; we're going to unwrap the presents soon. Denzel is all excited. _

_I might as well just write it down._

_Dad is dead. _

_And I still don't know how exactly I feel about that. That's what's horrible. Because I feel sad, but not _that _sad. I was, for a while, but now, I realized that it's not like life will change that much. We were never close. He was almost never home; I've basically lived on my own for years._

_But for the same reasons, I feel awful. Is it my fault? Or was I part of the reason why he committed suicide? I'll never be able to tell. _

_I have to go downstairs now._

_I hope I'll be alright._

Tifa put away her notebook in her backpack. She still hadn't returned to her old house, but Aerith had gone, along with Zack, to get her stuff. It was now all stored in the guest room, which she almost never used, seeing as she didn't sleep there.

Aerith and Denzel were sitting at the base of the tree, eagerly staring at the presents. Aerith was obviously taking pleasure in teasing her young cousin, telling him he only had one while she had ten; Denzel tried to reach for the labels with people's names only to be stopped every time.

It made Tifa wonder what Christmas was like in a close family. It usually consisted of herself and her uncle, and occasionally of her Dad. It had never been that big of a celebration in her house.

Once Cloud and Elmyra came in the living room, they all sat down. Tifa forced herself to smile, to look happy; she hadn't counted on feeling strangely betrayed as everyone around her shouted in glee and murmured grateful words. When her turn came to give her presents, shyness overtook her, and she blushed. Her impersonal gifts didn't seem to compare.

Denzel, however, appeared ecstatic when he unwrapped what she had bought him.

"Woah, I wanted that!"

Cloud peeked over his little brother's shoulder. "A video game?"

"Yeah!"

Elmyra frowned.

"What kind of video game?"

"Oh, I was told it's really good," Tifa gulped, nervous. "It's about an amnesiac hero and his friends trying to save the world."

"The usual stuff." Cloud grinned.

His aunt relaxed. "I trust your judgement, Tifa."

Tifa nodded.

"And we have something for you, too!" Aerith jumped in. She grabbed one of the remaining presents laying under the tree. "Here."

"Thanks."

She took her time removing the wrapping paper. She opened the box to find a beautiful red sweater that looked to be hand-knitted. She held it up to better examine it. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Elmyra's worried expression.

"You don't like it, sweetie?"

"What?"

That's when she realized she was crying. She dropped the sweater and wiped the tears, but they were quickly replaced by new ones. Embarrassed, she walked out of the room, apologizing all along. She heard someone follow her, and she knew it was Cloud. She hid in the alcove behind the stairs.

"Tifa…" Cloud dragged her hands away from her face. "What happened?"

"All this crying is wearing me out." She inhaled deeply, willing herself to quiet down.

"Teef." He looked concerned.

"It's stupid." She shook her head. "I'm not sad. I was_ happy_. Then, I felt bad about being happy, but I told myself I could so there shouldn't be a problem, and all this jumbled mix made me cry." She stood taller. "But I'm okay now."

Cloud framed her face between his hands. "Don't bullshit me."

"Well, maybe not okay. But better. I feel better."

He was obviously sceptical, but didn't push the matter further. She had known she wouldn't fool him.

She grabbed his hand—sent him a pleading gaze. "C'mon, let's go back." Her voice was firm now.

He gave in with a sigh, and she hoped the incident would remain forgotten.

—

"_Why didn't you do something?"_

"_You could have saved me."_

"_Saved us."_

"_Save me."_

_The words echoed endlessly, and she knew they would drive her mad if she didn't stop them._

_Her father and Miss Crescent were drowning in the same red sea as in her first nightmare; she stood on a pier with nothing to help them with. _

"_Wake up, wake up, wake up."_

"_Save me."_

"_Wake up, wake up, wake up."_

_She repeated her mantra as they repeated theirs until she couldn't take it anymore._

"_Wake up," she shouted._

Tifa opened her eyes, her breathing ragged. The space next to her was empty. Cloud was reading at his desk. He didn't look surprised when he saw she was awake.

"I thought you said the nightmares had gone away," was all he said.˙

And she had.

Of course, they didn't. Cloud's presence at night was comforting, but it wasn't magical. Her doubts and guilt wouldn't go away because he slept next to her.

"I lied."

"Yeah, I noticed."

Anger coursed through her. "Sure you would."

He didn't bother replying, not willing to risk a fight. She had wanted one, wanted something to distract from her last dream, from the voices still ringing in her head. Something that would take her mind away from everything.

She got up and snatched Cloud's book from his hands, taking care to mark the page, and dropped it on the desk. She straddled him; his arms immediately came around her waist.

"Not sleepy anymore?"

She ran her hands through his hair. "No."

"Shame."

"Is it?" She went to kiss him, but he pulled his head back. "Hey."

"I know what you're doing and it's a bad idea. Believe me."

She rolled her eyes. "And you would speak from experience?"

His silence told all. "Oh, so you can sleep around to get your mind off things but I can't?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Sleep around?"

"You know what I meant."

"I'm not having sex with you when you're like this."

"You think you know everything, do you?" She tried to push him away, but he grabbed her wrists tightly. "Let go!"

"Tifa," he began, voice soft, "tell me what's going on in your head. I want to help you."

She fought against his hold for a few seconds, giving up when it was obvious she wouldn't win.

"I've waited a week," he continued. "You didn't feel well at Christmas and I gave you space, but I've watched you struggle enough. I want to help you. And sleeping with you right now won't help. Trust me on this one."

At his words, her body slackened, and she fell against his chest. He climbed to his feet with her in his arms, and went to sit on his bed. She didn't loosen her hold on him.

"I just…"

"Yeah?"

"I feel like…it's my fault."

She felt him go rigid. "Why?"

"Like I could have done more efforts in our relationship. Maybe he would still be alive if I had." She blinked at few stray tears away. She wouldn't cry this time.

Cloud pulled away a bit so he could look at her.

"Don't think that way. Please don't."

It had been a long time since she had last thought about Cloud's mother and her suicide. How Cloud had apparently said it was his fault. It was ironic now that they were in a similar position.

"What happened with your mother, Cloud?"

She slid off his lap, going to sit against the wall. Cloud closed his eyes.

"I'll only tell you because I think it's important you should hear it. That you understand it's not your fault."

"Okay," she whispered.

She would have expected to be enthusiastic when she finally discovered what had went on, but it wasn't the case. She was anxious.

Cloud took a deep breath. He was playing with his ring.

"My mom had a mental disorder. It's called borderline personality disorder." He stopped as if to gather his thoughts. "I—I hated her. She made me hate her with time.

"I remember back when my Dad was still alive—they were always fighting. Always. And the fights were violent, too, but it was always on her part. Once she tore his shirt apart with her hands, she was so enraged. After he died, her attention shifted to me. She'd do—" He stopped. "Shit. This is a bad idea."

Tifa scooted next to him, and intertwined their fingers together. It seemed to be all the encouragement he needed.

"Okay. Okay. Shit. What she did the most was basically just…play with our emotions. I was six and she'd hide in a closet for hours, and I thought she had left me alone, and then she'd come out like nothing had happened. Or she'd announce that she was leaving in the middle of the night. She'd take the car and drive around the neighbourhood. I remember once, I ran after her in the street because I thought she had abandoned me and Denzel. The worst thing she did was cut herself and spread blood on the walls to see how we'd react to her death." He let out a mirthless chuckle. "I hated her."

Tifa could see why. Her own mother had been absent more than anything else, and mentions of her were considered a shame with the rest of her family.

"If I stayed out later than ten, she thought I was taking drugs or something, and she'd beat me up when I got back. It was crazy, living with her. She did all this stuff because she wanted to see if we loved her, I think. I dunno why. It was crazy."

He squeezed her hand, and she returned the gesture.

"She was also an hypochondriac. She was continuously thinking she was sick from the slightest cough. She kept going to see doctors, and when they refused to see her, she'd find another, even if it was in the next town over. Eventually, she found a dumbass who decided to play along with her delusions. He gave her prescriptions for _anything_. It ended up costing us a fortune, and she kept missing work because of her supposed illness; she got fired from job after job. She couldn't keep stable relationships with her employers. It was all just a huge mess. And…"

He groaned and hid his eyes behind his free hand.

"And one day, I got angry. I couldn't take it anymore; she was driving me fucking crazy. I took all of her pills and put them away. For days, she threw tantrums every night, ordering me to tell her where I had hidden them. I thought, she'll see that she's fine without all that medication—I'll give them back after a few days and she'll have realized she doesn't need it anymore." He snorted. "Yeah, right. One day while Denzel and I were at school, she tore the house apart and found them. Swallowed all of them all at once. Died from an overdose. We found her in my room after school."

He stopped talking, and Tifa thought he wouldn't go any further. Her heartbeat had accelerated since the beginning of his story, and she hadn't noticed how tense her muscles were.

"I was sure it was my fault she died," Cloud finished. "But the thing is, I was glad she was gone. I couldn't take it anymore. Neither could Denzel, and he hadn't seen the worst of it. And that made me feel like shit for so long. She was still my Mom," he whispered.

He turned slightly toward her. "Don't feel like it's your fault, please. It isn't. He was unhappy, and that's not because of you. My mother killed herself because she was sick, not because of me. Took me a long time to get to that conclusion, but it's the truth. Please don't torture yourself like I did."

"I won't."

Their voices were deadly quiet.

"Promise me."

"I won't."

"Thanks."

She wanted to find the girl who had told her about Cloud's mom first, and smash her face for continuing to spread rumours about the matter.

"Let's get some sleep. School starts soon."

"Hurray."

He snickered, but it sounded forced.

"Cloud?" She asked as they settled in the bed.

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you told me. I needed to hear that." She snuggled against his side and closed her eyes.

There were no more nightmares.

—

**A/N: **A bit shorter than usual, but I felt this was a good point to end the chapter. I'd say there's about 7 chapters left, maybe less. No FAQ or responses tonight; I'm way too tired and have to work tomorrow!

thank you!:  
**DivineKitten, Amber, Numious-Alqua, J Luc Pitard, Iris Irine, ObsidianButterfly28, cloudlover2989, Kaja, BananaPeaceMonkeyKarmi, Brandnewlacey, bonnie, Lord Divestre Croft, anon, demonegg, Darth Nihilion, HeadtotheSky, The Mattster, FinalxFenrir7, IshidaH, AffeGlass, OPFAN, & AngelofMist!**


	21. doubts II, a warning, and Donovan

**Chapter 21:** _doubts, a warning, and Donovan_

—

**A/N: **Just a reminder about Donovan (taken from my OC guide): A graduate from Nibelheim High who keeps in close contact with the elite. Generally not liked for his violent and threatening nature (in Cloud's words: He's a guy who enjoys making people miserable more than anything else). Tifa doesn't like him, and neither do Jordan and Elliott. Took care of the Scarlet issue with Chandler and Cloud. For those who want to know, he's 21. Random, maybe interesting detail: his last name is the derived form of the Gaelic _broin_, which means raven. Was mentioned in chapters 10 and 11. Finally made his big entrance in chapter 15. Appeared in chapters 16 and 18, both times rather briefly.

—

_January_

"This goes here?"

"How many times do you have to be told?"

"I want to make sure!"

"Shut up, both of you."

"Yo, shut up yourself."

"Shut up _everyone_."

They all fell silent under Aerith's command, and Tifa had to suppress the smirk that was itching to take form on her lips.

"Well," she said after a few minutes, "I think we're done." She put her hands on her hips and took a good look around.

Her new home was nothing compared to the house her father had bought in Nibelheim. The latter had been unreasonably huge considering they were only two people. This one, however, consisted of two rooms—a bathroom, and a big one that accommodated a small kitchen, a table, a couch, and her bed. There was also a closet, which she guessed used to store brooms and other cleaning items. The walls were covered in vintage wallpaper that she found ugly, but would have to live with.

The old lady upstairs had cried buckets when Tifa and Zangan had come to inquire about the basement flat for rent. Apparently, the story of how her father had died and she was now an orphan made for good price reductions, but Tifa had pretended not to hear when her uncle had made the comment.

School had already started when he had arrived from Midgar. The first days had been rather hard, not so much academically, but because of her fellow students' endless enquiries. Most of them started with questions and condolences about her father, only to quickly switch the subject to her current living arrangements. Tifa had nearly cracked once; Cloud had had to put an arm around her waist to prevent her from lunging at a girl who had made a careless remark on how _cool_ it was that she was living with her boyfriend.

Thankfully, the elite had been there for her, and after less than a week, nobody dared to approach her with stupid questions. She hadn't bothered asking what they had done; she wasn't completely sure she wanted to know in the first place, and she was so glad for the respite that she decided to keep her mouth shut about their unorthodox ways.

Vincent, on the other hand, still had things of his own to deal with, and while he was physically present at her side, she knew his mind wandered to meet his own ghost most of the time. She let him be when that happened, unable to bring herself to shake him out of it. Jordan and Elliott had barely left her side in the last two weeks, something that made her smile; they almost acted like bodyguards, and she guessed Cloud might have told them to act so in order to ward off unwanted attention. It was working so far, and she was in good company, which helped her own mind from staying towards unpleasant images.

"I'm starving, yo." Reno let himself fall on the couch.

"We _just _ate." Yuffie glared.

"Why are you such a bitch today?"

"Excuse me?"

"Reno!"

"What? It's true. She's been on my case since we got here."

Sitting next to Tifa on the bed, Cloud ran a hand over his face, obviously exasperated. She had the feeling that if no one stopped them, their arguing would go on forever. She stared at Zack until he met her eyes; he was snickering in his corner.

"What?" He mouthed. She jerked her head in the direction of the bickering couple, hoping he would get the message. Zack sighed and got up.

"Okay, children, party's over."

"Why? Just get her out."

Zack grabbed Reno by the collar and dragged him towards the door. "Party's over, I said."

"What the fuck! Lemme go, I can walk, yo."

Cloud snorted.

"You got something to say?" Reno tripped on the first stair, making Tifa laugh. "Oh, fuck _you_ all." He roughly freed himself, pushing Zack aside and against the wall, and left, slamming the door behind him.

Silence followed his exit, but not for long.

"Asshole," Yuffie said.

"Leave it alone. He's not even here anymore."

Yuffie glared at Cloud. She grabbed Aerith's wrist, and dragged her towards the stairs. "We're leaving!"

"Wha—"

"Wait, that's _my_ girlfriend!

In the space of a few seconds, the apartment had become nearly empty. Only Tifa and Cloud were left. The latter seemed exasperated.

"Idiots." Tifa examined her nails.

"Yeah."

"Did they have a fight?"

"They're always fighting, Teef. It's their whole relationship."

"Sucks."

He tugged on a strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail. "You're one to talk."

"Hey, we don't fight anymore."

"Which is really weird."

"It is," she agreed. "But it's cool. You've become less annoying." She grinned so he would know she wasn't being (completely) serious.

He smiled back and leaned down to kiss her when his phone rang.

"Shit. It's Cid."

Tifa raised an eyebrow. "He's got your number?"

"I work for him, Teef."

Just as he was about to answer, she snatched away the phone and put it to her ear.

"Yes, hello?" She said in a singsong voice.

Silence. Then, "Well, that's just goddamn creepy, Lockheart."

"I feel somewhat insulted."

"And I really care. Where's the boyfriend? I need him to come in now."

She didn't reply, only handed back the phone to Cloud.

"Yeah? Oh, seriously?" He sighed. "Sure, okay. Later."

Cloud got to his feet, looking pissed off.

"The boss says I gotta go, so…"

Tifa shrugged. She had already made plans with Jordan and Elliott for later; they could always get together two hours early. "Alright. Have fun."

"Yeah, right," he mumbled while putting on his coat and scarf. "Cid's in a bad mood. He's gonna be on my back all night. Fucking prick." Despite his words, there was a certain affection peeking through his voice. It made Tifa roll her eyes.

"See you tomorrow," he said once he was all ready and about to head out. She gave him a smile and a wave.

As soon as the door was closed, Tifa grabbed her own cellphone, and dialled Elliott's number. He picked up on the third ring.

"What's up?"

"Are you free right now?"

"Uh, yeah. You want to meet up now?" He sounded preoccupied.

"Exactly. You're so smart, Ellie."

He grumbled at the nickname, but didn't protest. He'd probably gotten used to it by now.

"We're still going to the mall?"

"Sure! I'll be there in, like, twenty minutes or so?"

"Fine. Later."

She hung up at his parting words, and was out of the house soon after. The mall was a barely a ten minutes drive from where she now lived seeing as it on the outskirts of town, and her apartment was in the centre of Nibelheim, close to the café.

Elliott was waiting for her at a table in the food court. He had picked a rather secluded corner, against the wall and with only another table near. Tifa didn't mind, and from his grim expression, she had the feeling she would appreciate the privacy.

"Alright, what's on your mind?" She asked immediately after sitting down in front of him. "You didn't sound too good on the phone." A bit chilly, she brought her shirtsleeves over her knuckles and crossed her arms.

Elliott slid today's newspapers towards her, and she knew what this was about before glancing at the front page.

"I picked it up on my way to the library this morning," was all he said.

Tifa read the headline in silence. Dread coursed through her veins; her heartbeat accelerated; she clenched her fists.

_January 21__st__ - Another Death: Stephan Yale Butchered in His Dorm._

She didn't even bother reading the article; she could feel Elliott had something more interesting to say.

And indeed, the instant he noticed he had her attention, he leaned forward a little.

"Listen to this," he said in a hushed voice, "there's a pattern."

Tifa blinked. "What?"

"I figured the pattern. Or patterns. Somewhat. What I mean is—" He stopped and shook his head, as if confused with his own thoughts. He readjusted his glasses. "Okay, let me start over. There's a pattern to the deaths. Two, actually. They all fit except…" He cleared his throat. "Except for one."

She knew which one.

"My Dad?"

Elliott nodded, avoiding her eyes. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and rested her head on her hand. "So it really was suicide," she whispered. A whirlwind of thoughts and feelings hit her at full speed, and she had to stop tears from falling.

Then, Elliott added, "Or not."

Tifa went still. Her eyes flew open to stare at him. "What do you mean?"

"Just…let's start with the beginning."

She wasn't even surprised when he pulled a folder from his plain black shoulder bag. It was so Elliott. She watched in silence as he placed a photocopy of a newspaper article in front of her. She noticed the date before anything else.

It was from nearly four years ago. A smiling picture of a young redhead accompanied the text.

"That's Shelke Crescent," Elliott said needlessly.

She didn't answer for a while. "Show me the rest."

He shuffled through his papers, searching for a specific one. It was about Lucrecia's suicide. The next one talked about her father. She didn't glance at his picture.

Still in silence, Elliott organized the papers in a certain order. The first row was constituted of all the deaths, except for her Dad's, in chronological order, although there was a gap between Shelke's and Lucrecia's articles. The second row was simply made up of her father's article.

"Pattern number one," Elliott began. "All the victims weren't born in Nibelheim."

"My Dad was," she interjected.

But Elliott only nodded as if he expected her to say that. He went on, "Pattern number two: the victims are slowly left to die, often from horrible injuries or bleeding out, or both. Shelke—" He picked up her article. "—apparently ended up choking on her own blood. Lucrecia—"

"How do you know that?"

"People talk when they're drunk. Or under, you know, other influences." _Vincent_.

She nodded absentmindedly.

"Lucrecia bled out. Stephan Yale was, uh, let's say he also died in pretty bad conditions."

She frowned. "What do you know, Ellie?"

He lowered his eyes. "Jordan's brother was there when they found him. He was stabbed…a lot. He says the whole room was stained red."

Elliott pointed at the papers in the first row.

"If they all follow the same pattern, Lucrecia didn't kill herself, she was murdered."

"I knew it," Tifa muttered.

"For some reason," he continued as if she hadn't spoken, "the murderer wants to get Nibelheim free of strangers. Like he's protecting the town, but to an extreme."

"Kinda like…taking out the trash?"

"Exactly like that. It's as if Nibelheim is this little paradise he wants to keep safe and clean. People who threaten that, who stand between him and his goal die an horrible death."

Tifa was feeling so anxious she had difficulty concentrating. "Okay, so we're dealing with a bunch of psychos here."

Elliott seemed taken aback. "A bunch?"

"Well, yeah. The one who killed Shelke was—oh my God, don't tell me…"

_So, did Zack take care of everything like he said?_

_Yeah. Yeah, he did._

Elliott took out the last paper in his folder. Tifa nearly tore it in half when she snatched it from his hands. "Shelke Crescent's murderer still escaping the police," she read aloud. "Holy fuck."

_Did you 'take care of everything' like you promised?_

_Of course I did. You should know by now you can trust me._

"That fucking bastard." Her muscles suddenly slackened, and she fell back against her chair.

Her friend gently took back the article and placed it between Shelke's and Lucrecia's.

"There's one more thing the victims had in common."

"I'm all ears," she said dryly. Goddamn it, she was gonna strangle that asshole. And Cloud. And Vincent.

"Uh, well, Shelke and Stephan both had this particular injury so I'm guessing Lucrecia had it too, and, I mean, I don't blame you if you didn't notice, because I get you were shocked, but it would really help if—"

"Just fucking spit it out, Ellie."

"Their tongues were cut. So they wouldn't scream, I guess."

Oh, for fuck's sakes.

"This guy is making me sick. No, seriously."

She would have laughed at the way Elliott paled—probably fearing she would puke all over him—if the situation had been different. It seemed that recently all she could wish for was for the situation to be different.

She shut her eyes for a few seconds, collecting and sorting out her thoughts. One question remained, and it was the one she dreaded the most.

"What about my Dad? Where does he fit in all of this?"

"He doesn't," Elliott said bluntly. "He died quickly, he was born here, he, uh, you know, had his tongue."

"So, suicide?" At this point, she doubted it was the case.

"Murder. More specifically…" He hesitated. "You're not going to like this, Tifa. At all. But I think his death was…a warning."

Tifa sucked in a breath. "A warning?"

"To you. Because the murderer thinks you saw him in Lucrecia's house."

She had been right. She had fucking been right all along. There had been someone in the house; it hadn't been suicide.

"Tifa, you need to calm down." Elliott reached out to her with a hand, although he didn't seem to know if he should touch her or not. It was then that she realized she was shaking. She abruptly got up, bumping into the table.

"I-I need to go." Gathering her things, she turned around, ignoring Elliott's shouts.

She crashed into someone who grabbed her by the shoulders. "Tifa?"

It was Jordan. Without a word, she wrenched herself free of his grip, and nearly ran to her car. Once inside it, she willed herself to calm down, knowing she couldn't drive. Her mind was reeling with everything she had just learned. She had wanted to ask Elliott how he had gotten all that information, although she could guess just fine he'd answer with 'the library'. Of course. They had newspapers archives. Everything she had ever wanted to know was there.

Her father had been murdered.

And she had never considered the possibility before today.

She didn't know if it hurt more or less.

She drove to her apartment. Tifa felt like tearing the place apart from frustration. Instead, she screamed into her pillow until her voice was raw and her energy was spent. She fell asleep a little past five. The sun was beginning to set, and she hadn't turned on any lights when she had come in.

The nightmares returned, and she woke up to the darkness, trembling and freezing. Suddenly afraid that someone else might be in the room with her, she lunged for her nightstand in order to switch the lamp on. Her heavy breathing was the only sound she could hear. For some reason, it made everything worse.

She had a bunch of text messages and a few missed calls on her cellphone. Almost all of them were from Jordan and Elliott. One was from Yuffie apologizing for her attitude. Tifa didn't reply to any of them. It was the last thing she felt like doing at the moment.

Although, she wasn't hungry, she heated leftovers from yesterday's dinner. She ate quickly, willing herself not to think about anything for a second. A few bites were all she could manage before she started feeling ill. The rest of her plate went into the trash.

She decided to go take a walk, unable to stand still. The moment the cold air whipped against her face, her mind cleared.

Elliott's theory made sense. And she knew him; he wouldn't have told her unless he was certain it held a least some credibility. The ideas had been brewing in his head for a while now, she guessed, and Stephan Yale's murder had been the catalyst that had led him to talk to her. Which also meant that she hadn't been the only person who had found Miss Crescent's death strange. Whether Elliott was right about her father or not was something else—his death had looked like a typical suicide, whereas there had been suspicious elements involved with Lucrecia's.

Was it true what Elliott had said about the victims having their tongues cut out? Tifa grimaced. Talk about a gruesome detail. She made an effort to visualize Miss Crescent's corpse lying in that bloody bathroom; the image came too easily. She couldn't remember another injury than the ones on Miss Crescent's wrists, which had obviously been enough to kill her. It didn't mean that Elliott was totally wrong, but the whole thing came across as a little bit far-fetched to Tifa.

Why would the elite let a murderer walk away after all? She knew they could sometimes do unorthodox things, but this was pushing it. It made more sense to her for someone else to continue the string of murders, someone who knew about the little details. If Elliott had managed to find out this much, other people could; if Vincent had accidently divulged the whole tongue cutting thing one time, he might have done it a second, or Elliott hadn't been the only one to witness it.

The possibilities made her head swirl, and Tifa nearly slipped on a patch of ice.

Zack had never said the murderer had been arrested. Only that he had taken care of it. She had been the one who had interpreted his and Vincent's words that way. And that was obviously how they had wanted it. To leave her in the dark, seemingly satisfied with the answers she'd received. Unfortunately for the elite and Vincent, she wasn't so convinced anymore.

They had let a murderer escape. Who had decided to continue his work years later. But if it was the same person, then why didn't Zack do anything? She knew, she goddamn _knew_ he could be shady, but that was too much. And she couldn't believe that even he would do that. She had never pegged him as a person who would others be hurt, or in this case, killed. She figured it was always possible for him to a fucking good reason for staying inactive. Still, it wasn't an alternative that she liked.

Tifa turned around to head back to her apartment.

She had to make a decision. Should she pretend her conversation with Elliott had never happened? She could have if only her father hadn't been part of it. A warning to her, he had said. Was it true?

She let her thoughts wander, tried to wrap her mind around the situation as she walked. The snow crunched under her boots. There hadn't been much snow in Midgar, and when there had been, it would melt in the next hours.

Her heart skipped a beat when she unlocked her door and went down the steps, fearing that someone would be there. The place was empty. She giggled nervously. Her coat slid off the back of the chair right after she dropped it there; she left it on the floor. She had another missed call from Elliott.

Could it really have been a warning?

No. It just couldn't. _Why would it be? It's not like I tried to find out—_

But she had. She had been so curious from the very beginning. What if the murderer had anticipated her curiosity? What if he had known she held doubts concerning Miss Crescent's end?

Tifa closed her eyes and let herself fall on her bed.

Maybe it was time for her to stop snooping around.

It wasn't like she was going to stick around, anyway. Once she graduated, she was moving back to Midgar, or so she and Zangan had decided. She hadn't told anyone yet.

She couldn't sleep that night, haunted by disturbing memories and images and choices. The only thing that was clear to her was the annoyance she felt towards Cloud. He had been lying to her all along. She wasn't even sure if he knew something about her father's death or not. If Elliott was right, it meant that the elite couldn't be fully trusted.

The next day, she skipped school. Cloud called her during lunch break, and she did her best to sound completely normal. She thought she was doing a good job until he asked whether or not she had been sleeping well recently. Her voice faltered, the anger she felt surfaced, and she snapped at him. He stayed silent and she was the one who hung up.

At eight fifteen precisely, someone rang the doorbell, and she knew it was him. She didn't move to open the door; he would let himself in since she hadn't locked the door. She had known he would come. The second she laid eyes on him, worry etched all over his face, the negative energy evaporated from her body, and she sat back down on her bed.

"It's the last death, isn't it?" He said, keeping his distance.

"No," she lied. "It's the nightmares."

Cloud finally approached her. His arm went around her shoulders.

She had to make a choice.

"That guy who died…"

"Yeah?" His fingers were drawing invisible markings on her arm. It was soothing.

"Was it related to my dad or Miss Crescent?"

"No."

"Really?"

"As far as I know."

"What about Shelke?"

A pause. "I don't think so."

He was lying. She knew it. She couldn't resist a last comment.

"So I've got nothing to fear?"

His head fell against hers. "I'll keep you safe."

And despite everything, she believed him.

—

Cid Highwind was watching her like a hawk.

And Tifa knew the reason why. Or reasons, really.

It most likely had to do with her not taking down notes as usual. And blatantly not listening to him going on about…something—she had tried to focus a few minutes ago, only to be completely lost. She also guessed it had to do with the dark circles that had been lining her eyes for the last two weeks. And most of all, it had to do with her grades slipping.

She couldn't help it. Her motivation to get her usual 90's had disappeared in a cloud of dust; her concentration was escaping her. The result was a big drop in schoolwork. Sometimes she didn't even hand in papers.

The college money her Dad had left her had gone to pay some of his debts; the rest she used to pay for her apartment and daily needs. She had gone job-hunting last week. Although no store seemed to be hiring, Jordan had thankfully put in a good word to his boss, and she was now working at a sports shop. It could have been worse, she told herself. She liked sports. Of course, having a job meant she had even less time for school.

It was far from the life she had envisioned when they had first moved from Midgar to Nibelheim.

Cid began to yell at a student. Tifa twirled her pen in her hands, muting the sound of her teacher's voice. Even Reno was shooting her worried glances occasionally. Not that he would say anything. As a matter of fact, Reno had barely talked to her since her father's death; sure, he had come to help like all the other members of the elite, but their actual contact had been scarce and short. She supposed he was uncomfortable with the situation. It still hurt a bit.

Her loosing sleep over Elliott's theory was getting ridiculous, she decided. It couldn't go on, or one day she'd collapse of exhaustion. The other day she had fallen asleep in Science. Hojo hadn't been pleased. Vincent hadn't been there, something that was becoming more customary than she liked.

Cloud's words hadn't been as comforting as he had wished them to be. If only he knew how much his promise to protect her had upset her, guilt would surely strike him, as it did with pretty much everything else. She _did _believe him, however, and that made everything worse. Because she knew he was actively doing his best to keep her out of danger; his words hadn't been empty. There was a murderer out there who might or might not have been involved with her father's suicide. Tifa still tried to convince herself that it was suicide; a pang of hurt hit her every time she thought about it, and she chastised herself for even bringing the subject up again.

A sigh escaped her; she laid her head down on her crossed arm. Someone gasped. Nobody slept in Highwind's class. She mentally groaned, expecting him to start getting on her case. When he kept giving his lecture, she raised her head a little to peek at him. He was ignoring her.

Or so she thought until the end of the lesson. She got up from her seat and shoved her things in her shoulder bag. She didn't even bother with a backpack anymore since she only brought two notebooks and her pencil case; whatever manual she needed, she carried in her arms.

"Lockheart, wait a minute."

Tifa froze. There it was. Reno threw her a sympathetic look before leaving.

"What is it, sir?" She turned his way. To her surprise, he was gathering his materials. He made a sign for her to follow him, and she did silently. They were heading for his office, she realized once they reached the auto shop.

"Get in," Highwind said. She did, and he slammed the door shut. He dropped his books and folders on his desk with a grunt. She watched, astonished, as he started to fill a kettle with water, and prepare two cups of tea.

"Sir—"

"Shut it, Lockheart." She immediately did so.

It didn't take too long for the water to boil. Her head was spinning. Why was Cid being so nice? Was he trying to, dare she say it, comfort her? Cid Highwind?

He slid the steaming cup her way. "Really, sir—"

"Drink your goddamn tea." He glared at her. Or so she thought; it was pretty much his standard expression.

He fell in the chair across from her. She wrapped her hands around the cup; the heat of it was oddly soothing.

"What's going on with you, Tifa?" Cid rubbed a hand over his forehead.

She was taken aback. It was the first time he had ever called her by her first name.

She shrugged a shoulder. "Just…stuff. Trying to balance work, school, life."

"Oh, you work now? Is that the reason why you failed my last test?"

"I haven't had much time to study."

Cid didn't reply straightaway, and when he did, she jumped. "Oh, cut the bullshit, Lockheart."

She swallowed hard. That a teacher would put her aside and ask her such questions, especially in a manner as blunt as Highwind, hadn't been part of her plans. Not that she really had plans anymore.

"I'm not sure what you mean, sir." Tifa willed her voice to stay even.

"I'm talking about the goddamn assignments you haven't handed in, the tests you've been failing, your lack of attention. For fuck's sakes, you goddamn _slept_ in Hojo's class."

She stayed silent.

"I wasn't sure if it was an overall problem or only in my class. I talked to your other teachers. They say it's normal after what you've gone through."

She avoided his eyes. "Maybe it is normal."

"And maybe it goddamn is." He took a sip of his tea.

"What?" She blinked.

"That doesn't mean you can't do better," he went on as if she hadn't spoken.

Her jaw dropped the tiniest bit at this.

"Uh, thanks?"

Cid shook his head. "Pull yourself together, Tifa. You don't want to be stuck another year in this goddamn hell, do you?"

He had her there. And he knew it.

"No," she mumbled. She blew over the dark liquid, watching the smoke tendrils dissipate and then reform, as if nothing had happened to them.

The other night, Cloud had been smoking while reading, and she had observed the smoke twirl and dance, utterly fascinated. He had laughed at her, but she had seen the glint of affection in his eyes before he kissed her.

"I want to give you a second chance. But it ain't worth shit if you can't promise you'll at least try."

She raised her head, a spark of defiance having been ignited. "Perhaps I don't need a second chance. Perhaps I can raise my grades without your help."

Cid pulled out a cigarette, snorting. "Goddamn, Lockheart, how does Strife put up with you."

For the first time in two weeks, a smile found its way on her lips. "I don't know either." And she really didn't.

Hurried banging on the door had her start. Some tea splashed over the rim and fell on her lap. She cursed under her breath. Cid made a movement to get out of his chair when the door opened. It was Cloud.

_Speak of the devil._

"Tifa?" He sounded surprised. "Uh, what's going on?"

Cid handed her some napkins. She thanked him.

"It's none of your goddamn business, Strife."

Cloud frowned. "Oh-kay. You just never bring people to your office."

"You're always there."

"Jerk," she heard Cloud mutter.

"Cry me a river," was Cid's reply.

And Tifa couldn't help it. It began as a quiet giggle, but soon escalated into a full-blown laugh.

She gestured at both men. "You're like an married couple."

At this, Cid took out a cigarette and lit it. "That's old, Lockheart."

She grinned. "Still true." She pointed a finger in his direction. "Should you really smoke on school ground?"

"Yeah, _sir_." Cloud was now standing behind her. "You're still working."

"And now you're gonna tell me what I can do, Strife? Get out of my goddamn office."

Tifa got to her feet, still feeling amused. She mock-saluted him. "Yes, sir."

It was only as she and Cloud were about to exit the room that Cid called out to her.

"Don't forget what I said, Lockheart."

She nodded.

"What did he mean?" Cloud asked as they walked outside.

Debating whether or not to tell him the truth, she led them towards the side of the school to a spot they always went to whenever Cloud needed a smoke.

She pursed her lips. Then, "I'm pretty much failing everything right now."

He stopped in his tracks, gaping. "What?" His voice was hoarse.

"You heard me." She leaned forward and plunged a hand in his coat pocket, grabbing his pack of cigarettes and his lighter. He stayed silent as she took one.

"Oh, so you smoke now?"

She threw him an annoyed look, taking a long drag. "I've just been really stressed, okay?"

He stared at her. "You know how to smoke."

"Yeah, well, I used to back in Midgar." _When I wasn't feeling well_, she added silently. "It never became a habit."

She glanced his way. His face was stony.

"That's why it never bothered when I smoked around you."

She gave a nonchalant shrug. "I had a boyfriend who smoked."

He shuffled his feet around. "Right."

"He's back in Midgar, Cloud."

"I know." His brow furrowed. "That's not what bothers me."

She didn't bother giving him an answer.

"Tifa, what's going on? Cid asks you to his office—which he _never_ does—, you're failing, you smoke, you don't sleep, you're uncomfortable around me. What else?" His tone was accusatory. But the worry still showed through.

She wanted to reassure him, to tell him that it wasn't true she was uncomfortable around him (well, maybe just a tiny bit), that she did sleep well. Instead, she let her gaze drift beyond his shoulder.

"Elliott found something out about Shelke's murderer." The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them. Her eyes widened. Strangely, a weight seemed to have been lifted off her chest. "Oh, shit."

"_What?_" Cloud clenched his fists.

Tifa ran a hand over her face, grinding her teeth together. "You weren't supposed to know."

"Fuck, Tifa, I thought you'd stopped—Argh!" He threw his hands in the air and turned his back to her, but not for long. He began to pace. "This is about your Dad, isn't it?"

Tifa took a final drag of her cigarette, supporting her back against the brick wall. She was getting cold.

"What else?" She deadpanned. It was no use hiding it from him.

"Okay. Alright." He faced her. "Let me get this straight. And I'm sorry for if I hurt you, Teef, I really am. Your father killed himself," he stated calmly, and she felt her heart constrict. "He shot himself. You're not responsible, _he_ killed himself."

She squared her shoulders, feeling her fighting spirit slowly but surely coming back. "And how do I know it's not Shelke's murderer who's still running around who killed him? Made it look like suicide like he did with Miss Crescent?"

"This again?"

"Why not?" She took a step forward. "Why does it bug you so fucking much if I mention Miss Crescent?"

"Because you're hurting yourself trying to figure out this shit! For fuck's sake, I like you, Teef! I hate seeing you hurt," he finished quietly. When she didn't reply, he went on, "What makes you think Shelke's murderer is still in town?"

Tifa froze.

How did she know that, indeed? Sure, there was Stephan Yale's death, but was that enough proof? She had been the one to think it was a copycat murder.

"You're right," she whispered, defeated. "I don't know. It just…made sense, Cloud."

The bell rang. Wordlessly, Cloud took her hand in his, and started walking for the school's entrance. Once they got to her locker, he rested his forehead on hers.

"Stop asking questions, Tifa," was all he said before he left. They were both late for class.

_Because you're hurting yourself trying to figure out this shit!_

And maybe she was.

—

_February_

For the following three weeks, nothing happened. Tifa kept quiet. Elliott never mentioned his theory again. Her relationship with Cloud was back to normal. Her grades were steadily going back up; they were average at best, but she told herself it was still better than failing. Cid had winked at her when he handed back the latest quiz. She had gotten a whooping 78.

It was a Saturday night, the last weekend of February. Cloud had asked her out on a date; they had gone to watch a movie, which had sucked. It didn't matter to her. She was starting to feel a bit happier. Cloud had been right, she had only been hurting herself.

"I'm never trusting Reno's opinion again when it comes to movies." Cloud grunted as he turned off the car's engine.

"Why the fuck would you even _ask_ him about movies?"

He slipped both arms around her waist and kissed on the back of her neck as she unlocked the door to her apartment. "Stop that." She swatted at his head. He chuckled. "I don't want to fall down the stairs."

He complied, but once they were downstairs, he went to hold her again.

"A little impatient, aren't we, mister?" She teased him.

He hoisted her up on his shoulder, which had let out a shriek, and dropped her on the bed.

"Shut up, Tifa."

"Okay," she said, voice low.

Lust darkened his eyes, and she didn't need a mirror to know it was also reflected in hers. His hand found its place right above her hip; his lips found hers, and she answered his hard kiss. Her fingers clutched at his shirt, and she found herself wishing she was feeling his skin instead.

"Take off your shirt," she said as soon as mouth moved to her neck.

He bit her ear gently. "A little impatient, aren't we, miss?"

She shoved him, grabbing his shirt and tugging it upwards. He was grinning stupidly as he threw it besides the bed.

"You're a jerk, you know that?"

"You're killing me with your dirty talk, sweetheart."

Tifa barely had time to frown at his endearment before he was unbuttoning her blouse, and placing warm, open-mouth kisses all over her stomach. Her breathing got louder; she ran her hands through his thick hair, only to pull at it.

"What?" He spoke against her skin.

"I wanna kiss you."

His right hand slipped to her thigh. His nose bumped into hers as he went for her lips.

"Oops."

She closed the distance between them. His skin was burning, and she didn't doubt hers was as hot.

His phone rang. He ignored it.

"Maybe it's Denzel."

"He never calls."

It rang again. Cloud buried his head in her pillow and groaned. Her fingers drummed a makeshift rhythm on his back.

"C'mon, Cloud."

"I'll kill him," he said as he got off her bed. "What?" He barked into the phone.

Tifa rolled on her side, observing him. She had a feeling it was Zack.

Cloud gripped the back of his neck, something she knew he did when he was frustrated. "Yeah, you'd be fucking pissed too if your girlfriend was half-naked on her bed—wait, don't answer that."

Rolling her eyes, Tifa could only imagine how much fun Zack was having on the other end of the line.

"What the fuck?" Cloud shouted, making her jump. "Seriously? Fuck…" He shifted around, and she caught him watching her. Deliberately, she slowly let her hand trail down her stomach towards her pants, and undid the button. His jaw slackened, and he gulped, forgetting he was on the phone. Zack's loud "Hello" snapped him out of it.

"Yeah, I'll be there."

At his words, Tifa sighed and sat up. Of course. Elite stuff. Or so she expected.

"What is it this time?" She asked with little patience as Cloud put his shirt on.

"It's—Well…Fucking hell." She arched an eyebrow, waiting. "There's been another murder."

Tifa leaped to her feet. "_What?_ I thought you said—"

"I know what I said, Tifa," he cut her off, obviously annoyed. Or dreading another fight.

She watched as he shrugged on his coat.

"Why do you have to go?"

It was his turn to sigh. "It's complicated."

"Try me."

"Donovan's been arrested for it."

Well, that she hadn't bargained for. "It's _Donovan?_"

He advanced towards her and hugged her. "Sorry. But I don't have a choice."

"Yes, you do," she mumbled in his coat. She knew he had heard her when his entire body stiffened.

He decided to ignore her comment anyway. "I'll call you tomorrow, alright?"

Tifa grumbled an affirmative response, and then he was out of the apartment.

She made a grab for her cell phone. It was 10:28PM. Not feeling one bit sleepy, she figured she could watch TV for a while, or do homework. She was serving herself a glass of orange juice when the knocking began. Feeling somewhat anxious, she did her shirt's buttons rapidly and haphazardly before opening the door, cursing herself for not checking who it was beforehand.

Not that there would have been any need to. It was Cloud. It hadn't even been five minutes since he had left.

"What the—"

He didn't let her finish, kissing her hard, one hand framing her face, the other resting on the small of her back, under her shirt. As quickly as it happened, it was over, and he was dragging her down the stairs. Before she could blink, his shirt was off again and they were back on the bed. Not that she would complain.

She was removing her own shirt when he finally talked.

"I told Zack to fuck off."

She stopped in her tracks, dropping her hands to his chest; his rested on her hips.

"Good choice."

He gave her such an honest smile, that for a second, she felt her heart stop.

The joy she felt didn't last for long.

Cloud sat up, arms crushing her body to his. He kissed her shoulder, moving a bra strap out of he way.

Tifa knew it wasn't the time, but the words tumbled out of her mouth nonetheless.

"Why did you even need to go?"

His grip on her tightened, what she guessed he meant as a silent warning not to push it.

But she wouldn't have it. "Why is so important?" She started to move her hips, and he let out an audible groan, fingers digging in her ribs.

"Stop it," he murmured.

"What, this?" She increased the pace. He brought them back down on the bed; she saw his eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open. She smirked.

"So?" She laid a series of kisses down his chest. She knew she had won when he brought her head back to his. Not that it really mattered; she was having more fun torturing him than seeking an actual answer.

"Because Donovan's not the culprit," he said against her cheek. Realizing what he had just said, his eyes snapped open, and he blanched.

"_Excuse me_?" Tifa pushed herself away.

He knew. He fucking _knew_ who it was.

Trembling, she scurried off the bed. He followed after her.

"Tifa—"

"Shut up," she said roughly. Not really seeing what was in front of her, she snatched his shirt of the ground and slipped it on. It was way too big.

Cloud reached for her, but she stepped back.

"The murderer's out of town, Tifa," she imitated his voice. She knew it was childish, but she was past caring. "There's nothing to fear, Tifa. I don't know anything, Tifa. Trust me, Tifa." She took a deep breath and stared at him. "Fuck you, Cloud. _Fuck you_." She made sure to enunciate every syllable.

He raked both hands through his hair, guilt written all over his face.

"What about my father, Cloud?"

At this, he bounced to his feet, trying once again to touch her. She slapped his arm away.

"I swear, I don't know _anything_ about your Dad."

Right.

"Get out." She pointed at the door.

"Tifa—"

"Get out!" The scream tore from her throat, startling both of them.

Letting out a defeated sigh, Cloud gathered his things. He came to a halt before the stairs. "I don't know anything about your Dad."

"Get out," she repeated, this time in a cold whisper.

He did, and she was once again alone.

He had been lying to her. All this time, he had known whom it was, hadn't done anything about it. They all had.

Tears threatening to spill out, she took her phone, curled up on her bed, and scrolled down her list of contacts until she found Elliott's name.

_I think you were right. It was a warning_.

There was no answer.

—

**A\N: **DONE! Oh lalala, we really are nearing the end! I'd say, um, 5 more chapters? Look forward to the next one, loves. Everything is going to go faster now! ;)

**An abundance of kisses to: **Lord Divestre Croft, FinalxFenrir7, Amber, Kaja, Iris Irine, DivineKitten, Brandnewlacey, BananaPeaceMonkeyKarmi, AngelofMist, demonegg, ObsidianButterfly28, Ciara-Dragon, manicbanana, Mako KeyBlade, IshidaH, Darth Nihilion, Callout, anna-marie-diamonheart900, & kvcnext!

**Kvcnext**: thank you for the awesome review! Unfortunately, SE is going to be over soon, which is sad because it's so tremendously fun to write. And look forward to next chapter for some Tifa and Zack interaction.

**FAQ!**

**Q: **_Did Cloud and Tifa already have sex?_

**A: **Honestly, it wasn't something I put much attention one since I found the derail rather irrelevant to the plot, but the answer is (by chapter 20) no, by this chapter, yes.

**Q: **_I feel like the police know something_.

**A: **Maybe…


	22. scars, blood III, and three little words

Chapter 22: scars, blood III, and three little words

—

**A/N: **Phoebe is the girl whom Elliott likes, and the one Tifa met at the clash. Just a reminder!

—

_February_

—

_The asphalt was rough under his feet. He was bound to have some scars. _

"_Mom!"_

_He screamed over and over again, but the car wouldn't stop. As his tiny legs tired, the distance between him and the vehicle grew._

_He tripped, and dropped face-first on the street. His hands took the blunt of the fall; his wrist throbbed. _

_The car turned the corner._

_He slowly walked back home. His little brother stood in the doorway, looking shocked. How could he tell him their mother had abandoned them? He could fell tears escaping from his eyes. _

"_Cloud?"_

—

"Cloud?"

His head snapped up at his name.

"What are you doing?"

She came to sit besides him on the porch's steps; a blanket was wrapped around her shoulders.

"Just having a smoke," he mumbled.

Aerith counted the extinguished cigarettes that were lying at his feet. He closed his eyes and rubbed the heel of his hand over his brow, knowing what would come next.

"More like six. Oh, no, seven!" She snatched his current one, and crushed it under her feet. "There we go. I'm not letting you smoke a whole pack."

"Yes, mom."

"Why, I only want what's best for my children!"

He snorted. She pushed him strongly enough that he almost lost his balance.

"So what happened that made you stay up so late and bringing yourself so close to an early grave?"

He borrowed Tifa's excuse. "I've been having nightmares." It wasn't a complete lie.

She lay a hand over his arm. "About your mom."

"Yeah…Like I'm reliving memories. Something trippy like that."

"And…?"

He frowned. "And what?"

"What else is bothering you?"

"That's all."

"Cloud, you've been having nightmares for years and I've never, ever seen you freak out like this."

"I'm perfectly calm. No freaking out."

"Is it Tifa?"

He cringed.

"Ha!"

"Okay, yeah, we had a fight. Mind your business, will you?"

Aerith snapped her fingers. "I know! You said something you shouldn't have?"

"What the fuck, woman, when did you turn into a mind-reader?"

"You just can't lie to me, Cloud Strife." She examined her nails like they were the most fascinating things in the world.

Cloud fought the urge to take out a cigarette.

"I told her it wasn't Donovan."

She froze.

"Alright. You did screw up."

He bit his lip. "Yeah."

"Big time."

"What should I do?" He leaned back against the steps. They dug in his back.

"Hm. Tell Zack first."

"Hell no!"

"He needs to know," she said, annoyed. "So he can talk to her."

"She won't believe him."

"At least she'll _talk_ to him. She needs to understand what's going on. Otherwise she'll get the wrong idea, and that wouldn't be good either."

Cloud sighed, knowing she was right. He was probably the last person Tifa wanted to see at the moment. "Okay. I'll tell Zack."

She got to her feet, and ruffled his hair. "Goodnight."

"Night."

"And you better not smoke again."

"Yes, mom."

He heard her retreating footsteps; the door shut quietly behind her. He pulled out his phone. Lit a cigarette. His last one tonight, he promised himself.

It took three calls to wake Zack up.

"What?" Zack grumbled.

Cloud gulped.

"I screwed up. Big time."

—

_March_

"Stop it, Cloud. It's embarrassing."

Cloud shuffled his feet, but pulled his eyes away from his girlfriend. Or ex-girlfriend. He wasn't too sure where they stood. She was standing further down the hallway, talking and laughing with Elliott and a girl Cloud vaguely recognized. Phoebe something.

Reno nudged his head. "You're turning into a stalker. Very unattractive."

"Leave me alone."

"You sound like a fucking kid. _I do what I want_, or some shit like that."

Cloud crossed his arms, doing his best to ignore his friend. Unfortunately for him, Reno wouldn't stand for it.

"Give her some time," he said as he spun his locker combination.

"She doesn't need time. She needs the truth."

"And then she'll need time to digest the truth. So time it is." Reno waved a book around. "Who'll tell her, anyway? You? Oh, that's right. She doesn't want anything to do with you."

"Fuck you."

"I have that effect on people."

Cloud rolled his eyes. "Zack said he'd take care of it."

"Right. Just so you know, she's probably pissed at him, too. She hasn't sat next to me in class for the whole week. Been giving Vincent the cold shoulder too, I heard. She's mad, alright."

"As she should be," Cloud muttered under his breath.

The bell rang. Students began to disperse; Tifa entered a classroom.

Reno shrugged. "Can't argue with that. See you in Math."

"Yeah."

They both went their separate ways. Reno went into the same room Tifa had; Cloud wandered around, debating whether or not he should go to class. He hadn't been able to concentrate this week, and today the thought of sitting through boring lectures made him sick. Instead, he headed for the library, settling on taking a nap.

The librarian raised her eyes when he came in, but didn't say anything. The place was mostly vacant. He took a seat in a hidden corner. Willing himself not to think too much about his latest mistake, he dropped his head on his arms. Sleep came rather quickly, though it was light and sporadic. Each time the bell rang, when students came near his spot chatting away, he jumped awake.

When the lunch period arrived, it was the restless ringing of his phone that woke him up. That, and the angry clicking heels of the librarian as she searched for the culprit. He went still when he saw Tifa's name flash across the small screen. He let it go to voicemail. He bumped into the librarian on his way out. She eyed the bag slung over his shoulder with suspicion. Cloud didn't even bother giving her a sarcastic smile.

He stopped by his locker to drop his things. The hallways were mostly empty, a sign that everyone had already gathered in the cafeteria. He dreaded finding Tifa in there, but he knew the more he avoided her and dragged their confrontation, the angrier she would get. Or, he realized with a sick feeling, she might give up on him.

And sure enough, as soon as he came in, Tifa got up from her seat next to Jordan, but he pretended he didn't notice, and headed for the dark alcove where the vending machines were, knowing she would follow. At least they would have some privacy.

He was leaning on the wall when Tifa showed up. She wasn't as dressed up as usual, wearing only a loose hoodie and some skinny jeans. His gaze was drawn to her sneakers.

"Aren't you cold with these shoes? There's still some snow on the ground."

She buried her hands in the front pocket of her hoodie. "Do you always talk about the weather?" Before he could answer, she went on, "I was late this morning and forgot to put on my boots."

"Why were you late?" She was never late.

She shrugged. "Didn't sleep well."

_You're not the only one_.

Someone came to get a drink, and they fell silent, waiting until the girl had left. Tifa toyed with the ends of her hair. It was getting really long, Cloud noticed; the tip of her ponytail reached the middle of her back.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?"

"I was in the library."

They left it at that. He could tell she didn't believe him. Was a half-truth really better than a lie?

"What did you want to talk about?"

Tifa crossed her arms. Determination shone in her eyes.

"This fucking mess we find ourselves in."

Cloud couldn't help it—he chuckled at her words. It was mirthless, and fringed with anxiety.

"I just want the truth, Cloud."

"What if I can't give it to you? What if you're better of not knowing more?" His voice was hoarse. "It's not something I can go around screaming on rooftops."

"Nobody said anything about rooftops. It's me, Cloud. You can trust me."

"But you can't," he said gently.

She took a step back and flinched. "You've given me enough reasons not to. My Dad—"

"I don't know shit about what happened to your Dad, Teef," he snapped. "Get that in your head."

She glared at him.

Cloud closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Tifa, it's not a decision I can take by myself. Me, Zack, Aerith, Reno, Yuffie, even Vincent—we're all in this together; I can't just go on and tell you like that."

Tifa didn't answer, but he could see her waver.

"I'm doing what I think is best for you."

A sigh escaped her, and he clenched his fists. It hadn't seemed like a "well, that's a relief, now let's make up" sigh—it had been more of a "when will you stop feeding me more bullshit?" sigh. He wasn't entirely wrong.

"That's…honourable, Cloud. But obviously, it's not working as great as thought it would, is it?"

She spun on her heels, and was about to leave him there and he called her name.

"What about—" He choked a little on the word. "—us?"

Her eyes drifted away from his. "I think it's best if we keep some distance for now."

Well, fuck.

He watched walk away, most likely back to her friends (hadn't they been his in the first place?). He really had screwed up.

He waited for a minute, maybe two—it's not like he was counting. Then, he left the cafeteria, walking quickly, head lowered; nobody called out to him, and that was how he wanted it. He had to make another stop at his locker in order to get his jacket, scarf, and most importantly, his cigarettes. He needed a smoke _now_.

The doors to the school's main entrance slammed shut behind him, and Cloud exhaled loudly as the freezing wind cut across his face. It still didn't clear his head. He went around the building, to his favourite spot. He immediately shoved a cigarette in his mouth, and tried to light it. His hands were shaking.

"Damn it!"

"Need a light?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Cloud turned to his left, towards the person who had spoken, only to stop in his tracks.

"My intentions are pure, I swear," Vincent droned.

This day sucked so far, Cloud thought. It really did.

Vincent waved his lighter about. "Should I put this away or…?"

Cloud leaned in. "No, thanks."

Once his cigarette lit, Cloud took a couple of steps back for good measure. Vincent didn't seem to mind, or even to notice. He rested against the brick wall, bouncing lightly on his feet, like a kid who had had too much sugar. It meant he was nervous. So was Cloud, except his habit to show it was much more life-threatening.

Time went by slowly, and they stayed silent. Cloud cursed softly when he saw he only had one more cigarette in his pack. He would need more to get through the rest of the day.

"Want mine?"

"I'll just steal Reno's, thanks."

"Not sure he'll appreciate it."

"I'm not sure he'll even notice."

"That's true."

Cloud winced at the word 'true'. He was getting way too sensible these days.

Vincent glanced at him form the corner of his eyes. "You okay."

"Yeah."

"You just twitched."

"Right. Why are you here again?"

Vincent didn't appear to be insulted. "I followed you."

"Totally normal."

"Tifa looked like she was about to cry, then I saw you come out afterwards."

Cloud was taken aback. "She was crying?"

"_About_ to cry," Vincent corrected, not unkindly. "Did you break up with her?"

"What? No! She broke up with me," he muttered. "Because I wouldn't tell her about, well, you know."

"Ah, that." Vincent pushed his glasses higher up on his nose. "Tough decision."

Cloud opened his mouth to say _Not really_, but instead, what tumbled out was, "Tell me about it."

As much as he wanted to deny, it was getting harder to tell Tifa lies and half-truths.

Cloud let his head fall against the wall. "She deserves better than that."

Vincent looked at his watch and frowned. It was probably time for them to head back soon. Right on cue, the first bell rang. He stood upright, his back facing Cloud.

"You know," he began as he headed for the school's entrance, "it's really not up to us to decide what she deserves. She can make her own choices."

Vincent rounded the corner and disappeared.

With a groan, Cloud let himself slid to the ground; he hid his face in his hands.

Classes could wait. He had some thinking to do.

—

_March_

When Zack had proposed to talk to her, Tifa almost didn't agree. Why should she after all? Being separated from Cloud hurt, but severing her ties with the rest of the elite had been easy enough. Sad and regretful, true, but easy enough. She wondered if that made her a bad person.

But in the end, she had agreed, only to find him droning about the same bullshit him and Cloud had fed her throughout the months. She only half-listened, before having more than enough; she cut him off, saying she had to go to work. He looked disappointed, probably knowing it was nothing but an excuse. He didn't try to hold her back.

Now, three weeks later, the complete absence of her former friends was starting to weight on her mind, and her heart. She did miss Aerith a lot, as well as Reno's inappropriate comments, and Vincent's awkward humour, Yuffie's loudness, Zack's smiles, and most of all, Cloud. She hadn't be aware they had grown so close in so little time. Her resolve held still, but she wasn't certain how long it would last.

That night, it was all she could think about as she worked until 21:00. It was her first time closing the store with her boss, and by the time they got out, it was pitch black outside. She hadn't eaten dinner. She was hungry, and somewhat dizzy, and the thought of cooking something for herself at 21:38 seriously didn't appeal to her. Which was why, when she drove in front of the local café (packed with people as it usually was on a Friday night), she circled around the block to find a parking spot. There was one, only two streets away, across a convenience store. She grimaced when she saw Highwind through the store's window. She wasn't in the mood for his nagging or teasing or lectures of whatever else it would be this time. Nope, she thought as she began walking, not tonight; no, sir.

It was a thumping noise that made her stop in her tracks. Tifa would have believed it to be stray cats foraging through trash, dropping things left and right in their search for food. But it was too human, too repetitive, too rhythmic a sound to be a simple and meaningless happening. Someone wanted to be heard.

Tifa ducked her head, her heart constricting in her chest; her palms were sweaty, and she wiped them on her jeans. Her car was only a few feet away; she could still backtrack and head home. But the streetlight glinted off an object on the sidewalk, and she knew she couldn't turn back.

It was Phoebe's necklace, spelling her name in an elegant golden script. The same object that had allowed Tifa to identify her newfound friend at the clash, so long ago. There was no way she could leave her alone. Because there was no doubt in Tifa's head that the noise was a call for help. Or a trap, she mused as she stepped in the alley, a trap with an injured friend of hers, sweet Phoebe with her shy smile, Elliott's eternal centre of affections.

The alley was dark and cramped, with trash cans littering the sides. The ground was damp, and as she advanced, Tifa realized the squelching sound her boots made had to be because of blood—her friend's blood. She would heed the warning this time.

She strained her ear, following the _thump thump thump_, turning right in a wider path, then left. And there Phoebe was. Tifa approached with cautious steps. Without meaning to, she let out a gasp, brining her hand to cover her mouth.

She knew it was Phoebe—she just _knew_—but the necklace and her instincts were all Tifa had to base the feeling on. Her friend's hair was matted with blood, and cut short and haphazardly, the ragged ends stuck to her cheeks. Her eyes were dead and glassy, bruises welling around them; she didn't seem to notice Tifa was there, and she kept up with her signals. Now that she was close, the sounds were incredibly loud, each strike of fist against metal deafening. Her clothes were torn, her pants down to her knees, one leg resting at an unnatural angle, and Tifa felt sick as the understanding dawned on her. But the worst of the injuries marring her face was one Tifa could scarcely bring herself to look at. Dried blood coated Phoebe's lower jaw, and every time she opened her mouth to draw in a breath, blood—fresh, red _blood_, too much red red red—pooled and dripped down her chin, and Tifa remembered how Shelke had finally died, choking on her own blood.

Phoebe couldn't cry out for help.

Tifa fumbled with her cellphone, unable to flip it open as her hands were shaking too much. At this point it would be faster if she ran to the store for help.

"_Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God_—" She backed away, hitting the opposite wall. An awfully warm wall.

The faintest glimmer of her phone's screen reflected on a moving object, and Tifa barely had time to bring her hands to neck to stop the knife before it slit her throat. Instead, it dug deep and cold into the flesh of her palms and fingers. Fear kicked in, and her breathing came out strangled, uneven. Her attacker had one arm around her, restricting her movements. She knew she had to find a way to break the man's hold over her before the knife did even more damage. He was strong, and she doubted simply stepping on his toes would do the trick. She tried anyway, and he only grunted. Growing desperate, she threw her head backwards; she hit his forehead, and he hissed, slackening his grasp on the knife for a second. It was all Tifa needed, pushing all of her weight back and slamming the man into the wall. She grabbed his wrist and twisted it; the weapon clattered on the asphalt, the sound obnoxious in the night. She drove her elbow in his sternum, and he gasped, falling on his knees.

And Tifa ran through the maze of the back alleys, unable to remember which way to turn, when she was abruptly tackled to the ground. Her already injured hands hurt as she stopped her fall as best as she could, though she couldn't feel the pain as more than a white hot flash that was gone in less than a second. She rolled on her back in time to see the knife coming towards her face as his other hand grabbed her jaw and forced it open. Panic seized her, and she scratched at his arm, leaving red, angry trails behind. The man backhanded her, and for a moment the world spun. She turned on her side, dry-heaving. She heard him get to his feet, but was too wobbly to do the same. He grabbed her by the hair, forcing her upright. Not hesitating, she made a move for the knife, surprising him. He brought his face and body closer in order to evade, manoeuvring the weapon out of reach, and that was exactly what she had wanted. Before he could move too near, she smashed her elbow in his face; he let out a scream and she was suddenly free to go. Tifa got behind him and kicked him behind the knee; he fell and she ran, ran, ran.

It felt like an eternity before she reached the street and the convenience store. She prayed Highwind was still inside. She burst into the store, making everyone jump. Tears escaped her eyes when she saw her teacher. Unable to stand anymore, she leaned heavily against a shelf, sending its content sprawling.

Highwind was at her side before she hit the floor.

"Goddamn, Lockheart, _what the hell happened to you_?"

Pain reared its ugly head, and she began to sob, her hands burning.

"Call the police!"

The owner jumped on his phone. Tifa heard echoes of his voice. She didn't want the police or an ambulance; she wanted Cloud—Cloud with his whispered lies of comfort and strong arms and sweet gestures and honest smile and tendrils of guilt darkening his eyes.

Cid gently brought her near the counter and made her sit down on the floor.

"Tifa, were you followed?"

She shook her head, not knowing the answer, but doubting the man would have let Phoebe alone to live after what she had witnessed and gone through.

"I don't th—think so."

He still went outside for what seemed like terribly long minutes before coming back inside. He cursed.

"There's no one."

She saw in his frown that he wanted to press her, to ask what she had been doing to get into this mess. She took a deep breath.

"I found Phoebe in an alley. She's the one, the one who needs help, not me, and there was this man. He—he attacked me, but I managed to run away."

Cid crouched next to her, and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Phoebe who, Tifa?"

She racked her memories to find her friend's last name.

"Shea, I think. Phoebe Shea."

He nodded, though she could tell he wasn't able to put a face to the name.

"Did you see anything else? About the man."

She shook her head. "No. His face was completely covered. He was very tall, but that's all."

Just as he was about to get to his feet, Tifa made a move to grab his arm, only to stop at the last second, remembering her bloodied hands.

"Can you call him?" She murmured, not really sure why. They looked like they were sharing a secret, and maybe, Tifa thought, they were. The owner was staring at them, face both quizzical and fearful. Maybe he was wondering if the bloodstains would come off his 'Welcome' carpet.

"Him?" Highwind's eyes widened in comprehension. "Goddamn it, Lockheart, what should I tell him?"

Tifa shrugged. She didn't really care.

He went outside to make his phone call; she spied him from the corner of her eyes, saw him gesticulate wildly, light a cigarette or two, imagined him curse loudly as the police cruiser came to an abrupt stop in front of him. To her relief, it was Tseng who got into the store, and not Sephiroth. He made a beeline for her, stooping down to be at eye-level with her. He lightly took her hands in his.

"Are you injured elsewhere, Miss Lockheart?"

She liked that he was straight to the point. "No. But there's a girl in the alley—she's in bad condition, you should go see her."

"I will."

He exited the building, and they waited nearly ten minutes before he came back. Highwind was back inside, resting against the door, smoking still despite the owner's plaintive demands that he please stop.

Tseng carried a first-aid kit this time around. He examined her injuries again.

"You'll need stiches for these, Miss Lockheart." He uncurled his fist around a familiar red and black item. "Does this belong to you?"

Tifa took back her phone, glad the man hadn't taken it. "What about Phoebe?"

Tseng pinched his lips together. Dread settled all over her.

"I'm sorry, Miss Lockheart."

Tifa closed her eyes, letting her head fall back against the counter.

He disinfected the cuts, then wrapped them with gauze, all the time staying silent.

"When is the goddamn ambulance going to get here?"

"The nearest clinic is almost half an hour away, Mister Highwind. When I got the call, all it said was that the girl was in shock and had non-lethal injuries. You have to give them time."

Cid grumbled. They all froze when a pounding on the door began; Cloud barged in, pushing Highwind from his spot. He stood still in the entrance, eyes wild and anxious. Whatever he had been told, it hadn't been in order to keep him calm.

He jogged towards her, glanced her hands, and swept her bangs away from her forehead. The sight of him loosened something inside Tifa, and she buried her face in his neck and gripped his jacket despite the pain and the blood seeping through the bandages. He cradled the back of her head, fingers intertwined in her hair. He might have been murmuring meaningless words of comfort in her ear, she didn't know for sure nor cared; all that mattered was that Cloud was there. He kissed her cheek, lightly and softly.

"Let's get you home." She was suddenly carried in the air, and she clung to his shoulders.

"Sorry for the blood," she mumbled.

Tseng stepped forward, blocking their exit.

"I can't let you leave like that. I need to interrogate her and—"

"Fuck off, Tseng," Cloud said coldly. "That son of a bitch can call me tomorrow."

"Miss Lockheart needs medical attention—"

"So I'll drive her there myself."

Cloud shoved his way through, not waiting for Tseng to continue arguing. The wind brought some clarity to Tifa's mind. She couldn't bring herself to raise her eyes to look around in fear of seeing her attacker lurking in the shadows.

"Where are your keys, Teef?"

Cloud slowly put her down on her feet in front of her car. She plunged a hand in the pocket of her jacket, finding herself lucky her keys hadn't been lost throughout the fight.

"Alright."

Both of them got in without another word, and it stayed that way for the short drive back to Tifa's apartment. Cloud's expression was tight and controlled, though she could see he was nothing but. Once they were at her home, he helped her get down the stairs, which was unnecessary, but sweet, so she let him. He sat her on the bed and brought her a glass of water. The atmosphere was tense, and just as she was about to say something, Cloud fell to his knees in front of her, and rested his forehead on her legs.

"I thought I'd lost you."

Tifa stroked his hair, inwardly cursing when it became coated with blood. It seemed to be all she was seeing tonight. Blood, blood, blood.

"What did Highwind tell you?" She asked gently.

He exhaled loudly. "That you were attacked and in critical condition. I just—I panicked."

"He exaggerated." _Goddamn it, Cid_.

Cloud muttered something that sounded awfully like "Thankfully", but she ignored it, and continued to play with his hair. She knew it would soothe him.

They stayed like this a while until Cloud's phone rang, and he threw it across the room, making her jump. He sat next to her and gave her a stony look.

"I can't deal with him. Not tonight."

"Zack?"

He nodded tersely. "I might kill him."

Tifa cocked her head to the side. "That's bit harsh."

Cloud grabbed her around the waist, and dragged her backwards until they were lying on the bed.

"I don't care about _harsh_, Teef." He hugged her closer. "Can you tell me what went down?"

She had a feeling he wanted to know how close he had been to truly losing her, and she swallowed back the truth.

"He attacked me when I saw Phoebe." She tried to joke. "I'm just glad he sucked with a knife."

He sighed.

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"Well, okay, I'm lying."

"How did you get those cuts?"

Silence.

"Tifa?" There was a note of anxiety in his voice.

"I stopped the knife."

"From going _where_?"

"Uh, he kinda tried to slit my throat."

Cloud's grip constricted, hard enough to hurt, but she didn't tell him. It was the last thing he needed tonight.

"Your jaw is bruised, too," he said softly. Deadly.

She instinctively reached to touch it, and it was indeed sore.

"He tried to cut out your tongue, didn't he?"

Tifa didn't answer, but it was enough for him. He released her and brusquely sat up.

"I'm going to kill him."

"Who?" _Zack? The murderer?_

As if reading her thoughts, he replied, "Both of them."

She stared at her ceiling listening to him pace. "Why are so angry with Zack?"

"Because—because…shit, I shouldn't tell you that."

"You've told me plenty you shouldn't have already."

More restless pacing. Some heavy breathing.

"The plan was…Fuck, alright. The plan was to blackmail that man with the tape for reasons I can't tell you, Teef, not that part. And it worked…until Lucrecia's death."

"It wasn't suicide."

"To be fair, I wasn't completely sure at first. It _could_ have been suicide; Lucrecia had her own demons, so to speak. But after you told me about your doubts, I knew it wasn't. Then, it was your Dad, but he didn't fit the pattern."

"That's what Elliott said."

"And he's right. I don't see how it could be related to the other deaths."

_Unless it was a warning for me to stay silent_, Tifa thought, but kept to herself.

"And then, Stephen Yale, that Misaki girl, and now Phoebe. Fuck, I don't understand why Zack still wants us to keep quiet." He stopped pacing and sat on the edge of the bed. Tifa observed him fidget, wondering the same thing. Weren't all those deaths enough?

"Can't you go to the police with the tape yourself? You can't really prove it's the same guy as with Shelke, but he could be arrested for her murder."

Cloud rubbed the back of his neck. "Zack has the tape."

"How convenient."

"I tried stealing it several times, but I couldn't find it. Figures he would hide it someplace only he knows."

"Really?" She couldn't keep the surprise from her voice, and he flinched.

"Really."

"_Why_ the fuck doesn't he _do_ something?"

"That's…complicated. People will ask questions. They'll find out about the drugs, the blackmailing, all the ugly stuff. All it takes is one person from school who hates us speaking up, and we're done. Yuffie will be shipped back home, Reno would lose his scholarship, at least one of us will be accused of criminal negligence or something, they'll revoke my title as Denzel's guardian. For the longest time, we believed we couldn't afford to lose all that."

"And now?"

He cupped her face in between his hands, and kissed her.

—

Cloud waited until Tifa was deep asleep before shutting himself in her bathroom. He dialled Zack's number, his fingers unsteady from rage. This time it didn't take several calls to wake Zack up; he answered on the second ring.

"Dude, I've been calling for _hours_."

"If you don't fucking do something before tomorrow, I fucking will."

"Woah, Cloud, calm down. I know it's getting out of hands, but—"

"_Out of hands_? Tifa was almost killed!"

"What?"

"Phoebe—"

"Who?"

"The girl who died, moron. She was a friend of Teef. She tried to save her and got hurt." His voice dropped, took on a darker timbre. "You promised me she would be safe."

"And I swear, I made a new deal with him after Lucrecia died."

"Well, it wasn't fucking enough."

"Aw, shit, what a mess."

"Great revelation, Zack. Truly enlightening."

"I'll do something, promise. I'll just, crap, I don't know, but I'll find a way."

"You better." And he hung up.

Cloud stayed in the bathroom for a few minutes; it was when he heard soft footsteps that he went out. Tifa was standing before him, dressed only in his too big T-shirt and her bandages, and his heart soared, then fell; he felt nauseous. But he let her tug him to bed without resistance, although all he wanted was to run as far away as possible, knowing it was the only way he wouldn't hurt her again and again.

He put his phone on the bedside table, wrapping an arm around Tifa as she snuggled into his side. The device rumble not even ten seconds later.

"Aren't you popular," she mumbled into his shirt.

It was a message from Jordan. _You know Phoebe Shea? She died tonight. Do something, dumbass. _

All Cloud did was turn off his phone.

He didn't sleep that night, and when Tifa woke up the next morning, he drove her to the clinic to get stiches. They were told she should have come much earlier, but neither of them reacted to the nurse's comments.

In the afternoon, they went to the mall, just wandering around the shops. She bought a dress, and they both smiled and laughed, though it felt fake.

By the time the evening rolled around, Cloud was nervously checking his phone every five minutes, resulting in his getting kicked out of Tifa's apartment for a grand total of 27 seconds before being brought back in. He knew she couldn't bear to be alone, so he waited on her porch until she threw the door open and relaxed visibly when she saw he was still there.

The next day, Cloud went back home to get a change of clothes (or two, just in case), as well as pack of cigarettes. Tifa smoked one before he plucked it from her fingers and crushed it under his boots. She claimed he was a hypocrite; all he did was shrug.

The following week was a disaster. The school cried Phoebe for a day or two like they had done Lucrecia; Phoebe hadn't had many friends other than Elliott, Jordan, and Tifa. Her best friend was a tall girl with glasses who sobbed during the announcement; people around the gym rolled their eyes and asked who was the dead girl. Tifa punched one of these people—she got a week's worth of detention and a pat on the back from Highwind. Cloud got into a fight with Zack, resulting in both guys nursing their own bruises.

Cloud went back to get a change of clothes, this time for a longer period.

Tifa couldn't sleep well, with or without him, but he liked to pretend his presence helped with the nightmares. It seemed like the only thing he could do for her.

On the third day of April, Zack came to tell him everything was in order.

Cloud didn't believe him. He tried to steal the tape again, only to get caught.

They got into another fight.

Zack and Cloud had rarely fought before, but now they were avoiding each other as much as possible. Aerith tried to play mediator; unfortunately, they were both too stubborn. Cloud still felt angry as soon as his (ex?) best friend came into view.

He also felt angry whenever he looked into a mirror.

Him and Tifa soon isolated themselves from their friends, though Vincent sometimes joined them. To his own surprise, Cloud didn't say anything. It was as if he was trading one friend for another, and the thought didn't help his overall mood.

Jordan and Elliott didn't talk to him anymore; the latter barely talked with Tifa either.

One day, Sephiroth and Tseng showed up in school again, taking Tifa apart to ask her questions. Tifa said it was ridiculous they would that two weeks after the murder, but they insisted, and Cloud watched her go with clenched fists. Vincent clutched his shoulder in companionship. Part of him wanted to shrug him off, the other wanted to say 'thank you'. Cloud settled on silence.

Highwind became protective of Tifa. Sometimes she stayed after school to watch Cloud work at the auto shop and talk with her teacher. It was strange to see their friendship unfold, as it appeared antagonistic half of the time, but Cloud knew better.

Elmyra asked him why he never slept home anymore. He dodged the question. He called Denzel every night, kept driving him to and back from school every day.

He went back for a more permanent change of clothes. This time he brought his gaming console and some books.

For a month, things seemed to be going back to normal.

Then, Tifa's birthday came.

Cloud was trying his best to wrap her gift when he got the phone call.

His memory from that moment until he stood on Tifa's doorstep, drenched, his tears mixing with the rain, was gone; he guessed he had wandered the town for hours. His stomach grumbled, but he knew he wouldn't be able to swallow anything.

He let himself in (Tifa had given him a key, and had jokingly said she didn't have a choice now that he was hogging her bed). Tifa herself got to her feet when he came down the stairs. She looked a bit put out, and he realized she probably thought he had forgotten her birthday.

It was past midnight. He looked at her, right through her, to the disgusting wallpaper she had refused to tear down, his vision swirling and his head spinning.

"Cloud?"

He fell on the bed and leaned forward to whisper three little words in her ear.

—

**A/N: **First update of 2013! Merry Christmas and happy New Year (better later than never)! I know some of you wanted to see Zack and Tifa interaction in this chapter, and I did write it, but I found that part useless and redundant so I took it out. Sorry guys! But, hey! More Cloud/Tifa (of a sort).

Hugs & kisses galore!: **Numious-Alqua, JukedSolid, SapphyreMyst, demonegg, BananaPeaceMonkeyKarmi, Amber, IshidaH, Brandnewlacey, Kaja, himetenshi, Whizzler, anna-marie-diamondheart-900, & AnimeGirl9297!**

FAQ!

_**Q: When does Vincent get his act together?**_

A: Soon enough!

_**Q: Are you studying in literature/cinema?**_

A: I wish I could tell you myself. At this very moment, I am a college drop out who was previously studying social sciences.


	23. a funeral, a murderer, and a goodbye

**Chapter 23:** a funeral, a murderer, and a goodbye

_—_

**A/N: **TW: rape. Also, this chapter was immensely difficult to write.

___—_

_May_

The funeral was held three days later.

The service hadn't yet begun, and Tifa stood in front of the coffin. She had been standing still for a few minutes now. Someone behind her coughed.

Aerith's mother was sobbing. It was strange, Tifa thought, how composed she had been when they had buried her dad. It seemed so long ago now. But she supposed the situation was different. Aerith and her mother had been extremely close.

The person behind her muttered, shuffled around, hissed in impatience.

It annoyed her how perfect Aerith looked in death. It hadn't been the case back when she was alive; some lipstick on her teeth, a strand of hair out of place, mismatched socks. Little details that broke the illusion. Tifa wanted to reach out and do _something_. Aerith didn't even wear her hair down. It was always tied up.

She stepped away. Someone sighed in obvious relief, and then sniffed and said, "She was so beautiful."

Tifa's breath hitched. Beautiful? Yes, yes she had been so beautiful. So what? She wanted to scream. Did it matter if the world had lost another beautiful person? What about the fact that Aerith had been kind? Dedicated? Ready to help others? What about the face that she had been _a million other things _than beautiful? Why was it always the only thing people noticed in death?

She swallowed back a spiteful comment, and turned on her heels. She wasn't surprised that the elite were nowhere to be seen. Head held high, she walked out of the church. Recent gossip told of a curse she had brought with her. Old people and their superstitions, or so she kept repeating to herself.

A few people were hanging around in front of the building. Among them was Shinra and a man Tifa had never seen before. His expression was serious, sombre, but also firm and kind. She couldn't help to think that he must be a strange man. Her stare lingered on them, and Shinra caught her. To her surprise, he motioned her over. Smoothing down her dress, she walked up to them.

"Tifa," Shinra said, not unkindly, "this is Detective Reeve Tuesti. Sir, this is one of my student, Tifa Lockheart. She was a friend of Miss Gainsborough."

Detective Reeve smiled at her, extending his hand for her to shake. She did, averting her eyes.

Great. A detective. In Nibelheim.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Lockheart. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, sir." She hesitated, but kept silent. Asking him why he was here would seem foolish. "If you don't mind, I'll just, um, return inside."

The detective nodded, as if he understood perfectly. She doubted he did. He handed her a card. "This is my contact information. If you know or remember anything, please do not hesitate to call me, Miss Lockheart."

So this was what it was all about. Of course. She should have known. She crumpled the paper in her hand.

"Sure thing. Have a nice day."

She didn't bother going inside like she had said. Instead, she headed straight for the back of the church, knowing she would find them there. She needed to warn them.

Tifa froze. Did she need to? Wasn't Aerith's death proof that things needed to change?

_"Aerith is dead_," Cloud had whispered in her ear on her birthday. Tifa had immediately made the connection with her father's death. It had been different from the others, not as gruesome as Phoebe's or Shelke's; a simple stab in the back, a knife in the dark, a body left to rot in a lake. Cloud had been the one to find her.

Tifa knew it was another warning. Something had happened between the elite and the murderer, that she was sure of. Elliott had been right about one thing at least.

She resumed walking, guessing the elite probably already knew about the detective's arrival in town. The four of them were indeed at the back of the church. Her eyes immediately found Cloud, who was standing a little apart from the others. His head hung low, and she couldn't tell what he was feeling. Across from him, leaning against the wall, were Reno—who was very obviously chain-smoking—and Yuffie; she was crying quietly, as if she feared to break the silence. And there was Zack, sitting against a tree, head in his hands; seeing him this way, so broken, made Tifa choke back any words, spiteful or comforting, that could have risen up. The elite didn't need anyone to make them feel guilty, and Tifa realized it had never been her place to do so. So she stood still, a couple of fee away, observing them, missing them, hating them.

The only one who took notice of her was Reno, who stared blankly. He opened his mouth just as the tension abruptly broke—Cloud moved so suddenly they all jumped. Before anyone could react, he had Zack pined to the tree. Yuffie gasped, and made a move to separate them, but Reno held her back. Tifa stayed where she was.

"It's all your fault!" And Cloud threw back his fist in a punch. Zack let the blows fall over him without protest. "You just had to be the fucking hero, you couldn't admit defeat!"

Something stirred inside Tifa, and she almost went ahead to stop Cloud. She knew him; hitting and blaming Zack wouldn't help. He'd still feel the guilt in all it's burdening glory.

Once he'd spent all of his anger, Cloud's shoulders slumped, and he whispered something nobody but Zack could hear before letting him go and walking away. He didn't spare a glance in Tifa's direction as he brushed past her. Reno took a step towards Zack, now lying on the ground, hands over his eyes. When he began to cry, Tifa wasn't surprised. Pulling out another cigarette, Reno stood in silent companionship, and Yuffie soon joined them. She cast a look at Tifa, as if asking her why she hadn't rushed to Zack's side yet.

Tifa broke the eye contact and walked away.

She knew what she had to do.

A few hours later, after having changed clothes an eaten a little, Tifa sat in her kitchen, staring at the detective's card. She had no proof with her, only a tale that could be easily dismissed; her own encounter with the killer hadn't clued her in on his identity. She didn't have the infamous tape of Shelke's murder, and had next to no idea where it was hidden. Maybe Vincent knew…

Sighing, she dialled his number. He answered rather quickly, like he had expected her phone call.

"Tifa?"

"Hey, Vince," she said softly.

"Hey."

"You know why I'm calling, don't you?"

"You've seen that detective."

"Yeah."

"And you want the tape."

"Yeah."

Vincent stayed silent for a nearly a full minute. She waited, toying with the business card.

"I'll do my best."

She closed her eyes. "Thanks. Text me when you know something."

They both hung up at the same time. Tifa considered her options again, even though her mind was already made up. There was no way to tell if the elite would act soon.

The detective's voicemail was curt and professional, and she hesitated before leaving a message.

"Detective Tuesti? This is Tifa Lockheart. Uh, we talked earlier at the funeral, I don't know if you remember. Anyway, I really need to talk to you as soon as possible. I'll be waiting at the police station." She left him her cellphone number in case he wanted to call back.

As she drove around town trying to find said station, she felt nervous for reasons she couldn't really explain. Sure, she was technically betraying the elite, though at this point "betraying" was a strong word. But it wasn't the only cause. What would happen if the detective didn't believe her? If she didn't have the proof she needed? In movies and books, the force could easily get a search warrant, but would it be the case now? There was no guarantee that Vincent would get the tape.

She finally found the right building; it wasn't far from the park where the clash had taken place. She parked her car across the street, and walked in. At first glance, it was empty, and rather small. There was a small waiting area on the left, the wall lined with chairs. Two big desks took up the middle of the room, and there was a cell on the far left, as well as an interrogation room on the right. It was Tifa's first time in a police station.

A noise made her look forward; it was Sephiroth, rummaging through a metal drawer. She dropped in a chair, and he raised his head, his expression slightly surprised.

"Miss Lockheart? What are you doing here?"

She took out her cellphone, trying to appear busy so that he wouldn't talk too much with her.

"I'm waiting for Detective Tuesti."

At this, he frowned and flipped through the pages of an agenda.

"Do you have an interview with him?"

"No, but I need to talk to him. We agreed to meet here," she half-lied.

Sephiroth took his time arranging his files before speaking again.

"Right. Could it be you have information related to Miss Gainsborough's murder? Because in that case, we can start without Detective Tuesti."

She remembered the last few times he was interrogated her, and she shivered.

"My information is for the detective only. Sorry," she added.

He chuckled. "If you insist."

Tifa considered texting Vincent to ask him how his own little investigation was going when she heard the tell-tale sound of a door being locked. Sephiroth had disappeared from view. The only place she couldn't observe from where she was sitting was the entrance.

And the gears began turning in her head.

She couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it before.

To escape the police so many times, the murderer had to be someone who knew exactly which traces to erase, which ones to leave so not to appear suspicious. Someone who could lead the trail towards someone else, someone hated by the town residents, a person like Donovan. He needed someone to cover for him, someone like Tseng—and she suddenly recalled how the latter had removed her cellphone from Phoebe's murder scene; weren't the police supposed to leave all evidence in place?

The elite wouldn't benefit from a deal with anybody, but the chef of police? She guessed he'd had all of their criminal records oddly lost or erased, allowed them to do whatever they wanted. The drug-dealing, the violence, the parties that never brought complaints.

As if he was reading her thoughts, Sephiroth promptly reappeared, a knife in hand. She recognized it. He leaned on the desk, barely five feet away, and smiled at her. Her breath hitched, and her hands shook. As subtly as she could, she scrolled through her phone's menu until she got to the 'record audio' option. She had to stall until the detective arrived, though Sephiroth didn't seem ready to let her escape for a second time.

She put her phone in her jacket's pocket, making him shake his head.

"It's a shame, really. Your father loved you very much, Miss Lockheart."

At his words, her blood froze, her heart stopped, and she felt a black rage rising within her.

"You bastard," she hissed.

He simply shrugged like it excused his actions. "I had a short talk with him."

"You killed him!"

"Now, Miss Lockheart, please don't jump to conclusions. Your father pulled the trigger all by himself."

"Because you threatened to kill me, probably!"

His smile widened.

"Which is why it's such a shame that we've come to this."

Tifa swallowed hard, her fists clenched at her side.

"Aerith's death was a warning to them, wasn't it?"

He turned the knife in his hands. "Clever."

"You made a mistake. You didn't really expect them to do nothing after that, did you?"

He laughed, the sound cold and condescending. "Good try, Miss Lockheart."

She took a few deep breaths to compose herself. She needed to stay calm.

"I just think it was a stupid move."

He didn't answer, but she saw the amusement vanish from his eyes, replaced with a blankness that made her shudder. He took a step in her direction, and she immediately jumped to her feet and back away from him. She cursed her reflexes. Now, he was blocking the exit. She glanced wildly at her surroundings, trying to find a weapon, anything to defend herself with. Preferably something long-range, like a gun, so he wouldn't approach her. Zangan had thought her some martial arts when she was younger, but she knew she had next to no chances of survival if the fight got up close and personal. She had barely made it out last time.

Her eyes fell on the paper knife lying on the desk, then on the gun lying next to it. Before Sephiroth could see what she was planning, she slid over the desk, grabbing the weapon, scattering papers and other objects all over the floor. To her shock, Sephiroth hadn't moved an inch, and she had an inkling why, which made her despair. She pointed the gun at his chest; it was heavy in her hands, and she knew her aim wasn't the best. She pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. She had been right. _Damn it. Fuck. _Tifa left the weapon fall out of her hands, and got into a fighting stance. Holding her ground was the best she could do for now.

Sephiroth laughed again. "That's charming, Miss Lockheart."

She had a second to see him throw back his arm before she understood what he was going to do. She threw herself to the floor; the knife sailed over her head and clattered against the wall, falling not too far from her. She crawled towards it, but a kick to her stomach sent her skidding away from it; she cried out, both out of frustration and pain. In the span of a second, he was kneeling in between her legs and had her wrists in a death grip over her head.

Tifa fought back the screams. She hadn't forgotten what had happened to Shelke and Phoebe and that Misaki girl. And neither had Sephiroth by the predatory glint in his eyes and the smirk distorting his features. When his hand slipped under her tank top, she trashed around, doing what she could to free herself, but the hand moved further up until it grazed her breasts, and she couldn't hold back anymore. The yells ripped from her throat, raw and distraught. Sephiroth slammed her head on the ground, strongly enough that she blacked out for a moment. When she opened her eyes again, Sephiroth had gagged her. She panicked, unable to breathe properly. Dots clouded her vision. Sephiroth loomed over her, smirk there.

"That's better, isn't it, Miss Lockheart?"

He shifted around, not letting go of her wrists, and she felt tears flowing down her cheeks as he unzipped her pants. His free hand clutched at her bare thigh, squeezing hard enough that it would bruise. Choking, Tifa wrestled against his grip again, and she had a shock when she felt one of hand coming free. She slipped it out before he could notice, and clawed at his face. He slapped her with such force that she bit her tongue, but she wouldn't loose consciousness this time. She brought her torso up, but her attempt to push him off of her failed when he hit her again. As she fell back on the floor, she saw a silver glint from the corner of her eyes. The knife was lying a banal two feet away. At the same time she noticed it, she felt her cellphone slip from her jacket. She went rigid. Sephiroth saw the screen, the words RECORD AUDIO, and his expression became deadly.

"You bitch!"

In a swift movement, he had his hands around her throat and a knee pressing down on her chest, cutting off air in her lungs. Tifa's first thought was to try to pry his hands away, but then she remembered the knife. Sensing herself going out, she reached out and fumbled for the knife. Her fingers brushed the handle, and she grasped it; with all the strength she had left, she brought it down on Sephiroth, unable to see where she was aiming.

She felt the spurt of warm blood just as her sight went out. She wrenched the dirty rag that served as a gag out of her mouth, gasping for much needed air. Blood dripped down in her mouth, and she spat it out. Her vision slowly came back, and she wished it hadn't. The knife stuck out of Sephiroth's neck as he lay on his back, convulsing, blood pooling underneath him. Then, he went still.

So did Tifa for a moment, until the hysterical giggles rose up and spilled out, followed by tears and hiccups. She vomited until her stomach was empty, and dragged herself away. Falling down on her side, she sobbed. When the blood spread towards her, soaking her clothes, dirtying her hair, and staining her skin, she didn't move away. She had no more energy.

She wasn't sure how long she laid there, not seeing anything, not hearing anything, not feeling anything but the blood as it steadily became cold and dry, before people came streaming in. Someone yelled an order, another voice cried out in worry, and someone gently gathered her in his arms. She managed to focus to see it was Vincent, his face shadowed by his hair. Another person was talking on the phone, and she recognized the detective. Standing above Sephiroth's corpse was Tseng, his features carefully impassive. And last of all, unmoving at her side, was Zack, who was staring at her in horror.

"What?" She croaked.

He let out a sob and kneeled on her other side. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He took her hand in a hard grip; she wasn't sure if he was apologizing to her or to his dead girlfriend, and she let him.

The detective approached, and she hoped he didn't have many questions because she could sense herself being pulled away.

"Miss Lockheart," he began so softly she had to strain her ears, "I've called an ambulance. Is there anyone you want me to contact?"

Her mind drifted to a certain blonde with spiky hair, but she dismissed the image.

"Can you call Cid Highwind?"

Vincent's head snapped up. "Cid? Why?"

She just gave him a tiny, sad smile before loosing consciousness again.

_—_

Tifa's eyes fluttered open. The room she was in was white and a sickly green, completely impersonal. She was lying in a bed, and smoke curled in dancing tendrils above her.

"It's about goddamn time, Lockheart."

She turned her head to look at her teacher.

"Who do you think I am, your goddamn guardian?"

The improvised ashtray on the bedside table was full. Despite his words, Highwind's face was ashen, his eyes tired, his back hunched.

"You shouldn't smoke in an hospital," she whispered.

"Like I care."

She let out a chuckle. The tears burned the back of her eyes, but she didn't want to cry now.

"The detective watched the tape."

At this, she snapped to attention. "What?"

He raised an eyebrow at her reaction. "There were security cameras in the station. He saw everything that happened."

"Oh." She relaxed. "That's good. Saves me from explaining."

Highwind made a disagreement noise. "I'm afraid he said he'd back later for questioning."

Tifa grunted. "Great. What time is it now?"

He glanced at his watch. "A little pas six."

So she'd been out for about three hours.

"What did I miss?"

He took a drag of his cigarette before putting it out.

"Just your boyfriend storming in."

Dread settled in her stomach.

Seeing her expression, Cid snorted. "I'm kidding. He didn't say anything when I called him. Just hung up."

She wasn't sure it that scenario really was better.

"I have to speak to him."

"Later, Lockheart. You're in no goddamn state to yell at him."

They stayed silent. A nurse who passed by barged into the room, looking outraged that Cid would dare smoke inside. She called the doctor, who did a few tests on Tifa after chasing Highwind away. She complied, wanting to get out of there was soon as possible. Unfortunately, just as the doctor declared her good to go as long as she had a lift home, Detective Reeve knocked on the doorframe, and they were soon left alone.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you, Miss Lockheart." He sat down in the chair Highwind had previously occupied.

"It's okay. I'd rather get this out of the way."

He took out a small notebook and a pencil. "So, I listened to the recording on your phone. And my first question is, who are this 'them' you refer to?"

Tifa's heart sunk. She opened her mouth to answer, not sure what would come out, when she spied Zack and Vincent coming in. She immediately shut it. Zack took a step forward, his expression one of determination, and she knew what he was about to do.

"She's talking about us," Zack said.

Detective Reeve whirled around.

Zack crossed his arms. Behind him, Vincent was holding a backpack. She knew what was inside.

"The two of you?"

"Yes."

The detective narrowed his eyes. "You have a lot of explaining to do." He directed his attention to Tifa once again. "If you'll excuse me, Miss Lockheart, I think we'll have to postpone our conversation." He got out of his seat. "One of you, follow me." He walked out without looking back.

"I'll go," Vincent said.

Zack nodded, and took the vacated seat. He took her hand again, but wouldn't glance her way.

"You are such an idiot," she spat out, doing whatever she could to supress the tears again, but they won the struggle and fell down. She wiped them with the back of her hands. "Why would you ever blackmail him?"

Zack pinched his lips. "You know…when I moved here and heard about this wolf and raven system…I thought it was so stupid, but I played along—I played _so well_ that before I knew it, I was at the top. The deal with Shinra just made us think we were invincible." He snorted. "So I thought, why not go all the way? I saw an opportunity, and I took it."

Tifa shook her head. "That's it?_ You_ _saw an opportunity_? No great reason, just an opportunity?"

He went on as if she hadn't spoken. "After Lucrecia died, we realized our mistake. We were so comfortable with our status that we never saw it coming. We definitely should have. We could have stopped it, we could have. But I didn't want to lose. I wanted to make sure we'd be all safe in the end, all seven of us. I tried to make new deals with him, but he wasn't scared anymore. I—There's no excuse."

The tears came to a stop, and Tifa inhaled deeply.

"Yeah. There isn't."

Zack left in silence; she saw the sorrow, the regret, the guilt etched in his features, his gestures. Deep down, she knew she still cared, but right now, she didn't want. Tonight, she didn't want to care about anybody's pain but her own, even if she was aware her resolve would eventually break down.

It was a long time before any of them came back. Zack stayed in the hall. The detective said he would call her tomorrow, but that it would only be a formality. They both went away after Vincent said he wanted to speak to her alone.

"How did it go?" She asked.

"Good, I'd say."

"What did you tell him?"

"The truth, up until Zack arrived. I don't know what he told him, but seems like he still had a trick up his sleeve. We're getting off with absolutely nothing."

She couldn't believe it. "_Nothing_? Not that I want you guys to go to jail, but seriously, _nothing_?"

He shrugged, as if apologizing. "Sephiroth couldn't speak against us. Tseng shut up for his own sakes, it seems."

At the mention of Sephiroth, Tifa stiffened.

"Right..." She twisted the covers in her hands. "Vince?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't—I don't feel guilty."

"Tifa…"

"Isn't that horrible?" She closed her eyes. "All along, all I could think of was 'if you don't kill him, _you_'ll be the one to die'. I didn't even think of my dad. Just myself."

"Tifa, he _was_ going to kill you. And then he would have killed more people." He straightened his back. "I would have done the same."

_Would you_ _really_, Tifa thought. The words were meant to be comforting, she knew that. But instead, she felt worse.

"Think you could give me a lift home?"

He hesitated. "Highwind insisted on driving you. He's in the cafeteria right now. I'll go get him. If you want me to."

"Yeah, sure," she said, feeling suddenly exhausted. "Go ahead."

In the span of twenty minutes, she was in Cid's car, driving towards her house, when she remembered Cloud.

"Can you drop me off at Cloud's?"

He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. "You sure?"

She nodded. He sighed, but agreed. There was blissful silence for half an hour. When they parked in front of Cloud's house and she thanked him, he cleared his throat, shoving something in her hand. "Here," he grunted. Tifa saw it was a paper with a phone number. She felt strangely touched by the gesture.

There was only one light turned on in the house that she could see. Elmyra's car was in the driveway. She rang the doorbell, then knocked. To her surprise, it was Denzel who answered the door. He cocked his head at the sight of her.

"Tifa?"

It had been a while since she had last seen him. He had grown a bit taller.

"Hey, Denzel. Can I come in?"

"Sure."

Denzel moved aside to let her in. His eyes were rimmed with red, and she wanted to hug him.

"Cloud's not here," he said as he went up the stairs. She followed him.

"That's okay. Where's Elmyra?"

At the mention of his aunt, he cringed. "In her room. She hasn't come out since we came back from the funeral." He sat on the couch in the lounge. "Do you know where Cloud is?"

"No, why?"

"I haven't seen him in days. Is he okay?" His voice broke on the last word.

Tifa came to sit beside him and wrapped her arms around him. He began sobbing.

"Oh, honey, of course he's alright," she lied. "He just…deals with pain differently. He wants to be left alone. But he's okay, I swear."

He clutched her jacket. "I was afraid he wouldn't come back. Like Aerith."

Tifa held back her own tears at the name of her friend. "Sshhhh. He'll be back."

She hoped she was right.

_—_

When nine o'clock rolled around and Cloud still wasn't back, Tifa called for a taxi. She would have walked, but Denzel was coming back with her. At some point he had declared he was hungry; Elmyra still wouldn't come out of her room, so Tifa had taken it upon herself to cook them dinner. She didn't feel comfortable leaving Cloud's brother alone, and, by the furtive looks he kept shooting her, he obviously didn't want her to go. So she knocked on Elmyra's door, poked her head in when no reply came, and said she was going to bring back Denzel tomorrow. Silence was her answer, and to make sure Elmyra knew where her nephew would be, she left a note.

They waited outside for the taxi to get there, Denzel rubbing his eyes sleepily, Tifa carrying his overnight bag. The driver was a cheerful man who kept asking random questions. He knew who she was, because everyone knew who everybody was in this goddamn town. She replied curtly and briefly. He never got the message. Denzel fell asleep on her shoulder. She had to carry him out when they got to her apartment; he was heavy for a ten year old, but nothing she couldn't handle. She thanked the heavens she had a twenty dollars bill in her backpocket. Unlocking the door was slightly difficult with the sleeping kid in her arms, but she managed, and went down the stairs carefully.

She nearly screamed and dropped Denzel when she saw Cloud sitting on her bed, head buried in his hands. He looked as surprised to see her, and she realized it was because of his brother.

"He's sleeping," she mouthed, heading for the bed. He got out of the way, intensely staring at her, and she laid down Denzel, bringing the covers to his chin.

"Come on." She gestured at Cloud to come with her, and they exited the apartment, going at the back, where a little backyard was. She rested on the wall, Cloud facing her. His expression was deadly serious, but his body language told her he was nervous.

"Where were you? Denzel's been worried sick."

"Around," he muttered.

She rolled her eyes. "Great answer."

He raked a hand through his already very dishevelled hair. "Can we not do this?"

Tifa knew he had a point, and she did her best to hold back her anger. It wasn't only about Denzel. She knew he wasn't going to apologize. He was aware as well as she was that 'I'm sorry' didn't change anything. More often then not, it made things worse.

"I'm—" Words hovered on his tongue, but he didn't go on. Instead, he cradled her face and kissed her.

It was different from all the other hundreds of kisses they had shared. Tifa couldn't really tell why as she griped his shirt. It was desperate and warm and made her want to cry. She pulled back gently. "Cloud—"

His mouth drifted down to her neck, and one of his hands to her back. But when the other found its way to her thigh and brought her leg up, pain made itself known, rushing from her bruised leg to her head; she was suddenly dizzy, and wrenched herself away from Cloud. A flash of a memory, so tangible she nearly screamed, and the sudden taste of blood made her vomit for the second time that day. As her breathing calmed down, she touched her bleeding lip in shock.

Tifa turned around, knowing in advance what she would see. And indeed, Cloud was frozen in place, a look of horrified understanding carved all over his face. He backed away.

"No. No, no, no, no, no. Not you."

"Cloud—"

"Fuck. Fuck!" He kicked the fence, then covered his mouth his hand.

She straightened up, only to let herself fall against the brick wall of the house. She was too damn tired.

"I stopped him"—_I killed him_—"before anything could happen."

"When Highwind told me what happened, I never—I mean, I…I didn't think…"

"Cloud, you need to calm down."

"Calm down? My girlfriend was almost raped because of me and you want me to _fucking calm down_?"

She flinched at his words.

"Cloud, it wasn't your fault. I didn't know."

He chuckled; it was cold and somewhat hysterical. "Not my fault? I didn't stop Zack, I didn't do anything, I just stood by. It _is_ my fault, Tifa. This is just one more reason for me to—" He stopped himself, going still.

_One more reason to…_She frowned. And then it dawned on her. She gaped at him, hurt and loneliness and disappointment coursing through her.

"No…_You're leaving_."

He didn't say anything. She brusquely pushed herself away from the wall, and couldn't stop her voice from rising.

"Once more reason for me to leave, is that what you were going to say? You're fucking _leaving_? You're just running away, Cloud!"

It was his turn to cringe.

"What about Denzel?" _What about me?_

He shook his head. "He's got Elmyra."

"Who wouldn't even speak a word because her daughter just died! You can't, Cloud, think about it!"

"I did."

"No, you—Argh!" She ran her hands over her face. She tried another tactic. "Cloud, it's over. He's dead. Zack and Vincent told the detective everything." His eyes widened at this, but she ignored it. "You don't _have_ to leave."

She could see him waver a little, but he didn't say anything. That was why that kiss had felt so different. It had meant goodbye.

"Oh, God…" She exhaled loudly, the fight going out of her. "Let's just…go back in."

They did in silence, and as they got into bed and his arms encircled her waist, she couldn't help but feel that he would leave before his brother woke up. She wanted to yell at him, to tell him to have the decency to say goodbye to Denzel, but she didn't. She wasn't able to sleep, either, closing her eyes and opening them every twenty minutes, afraid that he would disappear.

It was around five AM and the light of dawn was beginning to filter through the windows when he let go of her. She didn't move, pretending to sleep.

He was gone without a word.

_—_

Tifa didn't go to school for the rest of the week. She called Shinra's secretary, and said she wasn't feeling well. Nobody questioned her reasons. She took Denzel back to his house in the afternoon, and did her best to explain why Cloud's room looked suspiciously devoid of his personal items. There was a lot of crying and some yelling, but mostly (and unexpectedly) calm acceptance, as if Denzel had known that his brother would one day leave. It only made Tifa more sad.

When she came back to school, she had a chat with Cid, who cursed so much it made her shrink back. Students gossiped about Cloud's disappearance, and thankfully, no one dare ask her about it.

Zack maintained his distance. So did Yuffie, until her angry father stormed through the school gates, requesting that the transfer student program be cancelled, and she went back home screaming and kicking. Reno approached Tifa and Vincent often enough, until he was pretty much always with them. Tifa didn't ask why; she enjoyed his company, though he was still as exasperating as ever. Jordan and Elliott didn't ignore her anymore, and their friendship was a relief for Tifa, who had feared she'd lost it forever. Soon, the five of them had formed their little group. Some of Cloud's old friends occasionally joined them. Zack stayed alone. Tifa sometimes saw student talk to him, but he was always the one walking away.

She did go see him. Their conversation was brief. It was less than a month before graduation. He told her him and his family were leaving Nibelheim on the first week of July. She only nodded.

She took on the habit of sending Cloud text messages everyday. At first, she was only telling him about Denzel's welfare, but the content gradually became shorter, until she stopped sending them. Instead, she found herself writing him long paragraphs of her daily life, but never sent them. She was mad that he never bothered calling neither her nor his family. Soon, he drifted to the back of her mind, though he never left her heart.

Graduation was an underwhelming event. Zack came to say goodbye. As she watched his car drive away, she knew she would never see him again.

Cid gave her Cloud's old job after she left school. She spent her days in the sports store with Jordan, and her evenings assisting Cid in the auto-shop. Vincent began attending the local community college. Elliott and Reno left on scholarships.

Her nightmares were worse than ever, but she dealt with them alone; it had been something she had shared with Cloud only. She learned to cope with her conflicting emotions towards Sephiroth's death alone, finding herself unable to talk about it to anyone. Eventually, life returned to normal.

Or so she told herself. Lying became easier than before, and soon she was deceiving Vincent (but never Highwind) easily enough. To his credit, she wasn't able to tell if he decided to ignore her lies or really believed her. One day, she realized she didn't care. She found she didn't care about a lot of things now.

Sometimes, she had to urge to follow in Cloud's footsteps and leave town. She often replayed their last conversation in her mind, hating how he hadn't been able to shoulder all of his burdens, only to feel bad at the thought afterwards. Cloud had been suffocating in Nibelheim, and she felt the same frequently enough that on a rainy evening, she packed a travel bag, and walked to the only bus stop. The moment the vehicle pulled to a stop in front of her, she found herself unable to get on. She turned back.

One day in September, as she worked with Jordan, he suddenly exclaimed, "The world's back to normal!" And he smiled like she was meant to smile too, and then they would laugh and go on with their lives.

So she smiled like he wanted her to, but deep down, all she was feeling was the empty spaces in her heart; a small one life by her father, another left by a cruel man, and a bigger one left by a blonde, spiky-haired jerk.

_No, it isn't. Not for me_.

_—_

**A/N: **Now, before you guys murder me with pitchforks, may I remind you there is one chapter left?

Also, if you guys have any questions related to either, well, me or SE, take this opportunity to ask them! I'm going to gather them and make a huge FAQ when I'm done with this story, and then post it on my Tumblr, and possibly as an extra chapter. We'll see.

**Thank you all for your wonderful review (really this chapter's reviews were awesome): **Lord Divestre Croft, IshidaH, Numinous-Alqua, demonegg, Kaja, FuiRin, SapphyreMyst, BananaPeaceMonkeyKarmi, JukedSolid, Iris Irine, Whizzler, Brandnewlacey, FinalxFenrir7, & Amber!

_No FAQ! I'm saving your questions for the final one. _


	24. family, a million pieces and sharp edges

**Chapter 24**: family, a million pieces, and sharp edges

_—_

_You'll never get this. Or if you do, you'll never read it. You haven't replied to anything I've sent you in the last two years. I don't know why you would now. You probably changed your email address. I think you're scared to read what I send you. _

_Did you know I used to keep a diary? I called it the Notebook because I felt like an idiot calling it my Dear Diary. I lost it at some point. Probably during the move to Midgar. Because, yes, I'm back in the big city now._

_It's ironic. Back then, I always thought I'd leave you all behind in Nibelheim, and be the only one to move here. Turns out, I stayed behind, and you all disappeared. Or most of you guys. You were the first to leave. But you already knew that. I bet you think about it all the time; that seems like the kind of things you would do. _

_Do you know why I'm moving actually? I haven't told anyone the real reason. Vincent got into Midgar University; Cid got a job there, too. I didn't want to be left behind. _

_I'm lonely. In this huge city, surrounded by millions of people, living with my closest friend, I'm lonely._

_I'm pathetic, aren't I? I don't know when I got that way. To be honest, I think it was after you left me. But maybe I was always this way. _

_Maybe I'm depressed. Maybe I never recovered. I tried. Maybe I didn't try hard enough. Because sometimes it's easier to stay unhappy than to face your problems. You end up being comfortable in your misery, and stepping out of the barrier you created around yourself is incredibly hard. You have to sacrifice one way of life for the other, and sacrifice is never easy. You couldn't do it. You ran away. You threw us away. Sometimes I want to do the same thing, because I don't think I can step out of my bubble._

_I don't know when I got so emotionally dependent. There are days where I don't feel anything and I have to rely on other people to feel for me. _

_I also became a really good liar. I wonder if even you could tell when I'm lying now. You always were able to._

_I wonder…How did you feel during all these years in Nibelheim? Were you lonely like I am right now? _

_Of course you were. We all are. It's such a joke when people talk about connections. There are no invisible ropes tying us all together; we're just individuals; we grasp at opportunities when we see them because we hope they'll make everything better, more perfect. That's what you guys did, right? You were "invincible"._

_The truth is that we are the same as animals in their cages at the zoo. We curl up in a corner in hopes of letting ourselves die-but, most of the time, we pace the limits of our cage, reaching out for the silver of freedom in between the bars, grasping for the hands that try to pet us. _

_You kept pacing in your cage, going in circles, never really breaking out. But I won't. Neither will I stay in my cage, behind the barrier, the invisible wall that separates me from the rest of the world. I _will_ break free. And even if I can't, even if I'm unable to, I want to. _

_That's what matters. It might take a month, a year, a decade. But that's okay. It's a journey I'm willing to go on._

_What about you?_

_—_

_Vincent and I live in this tiny apartment above a bar named 7th Heaven. It's owned by a friend of Cid's, who apparently used to teach at Nibelheim High. Barrett Wallace. The name does ring a bell, but I never had him as a teacher. Did you? Now I work as a bartender during the nights, and as a freelance piano teacher during the day. It's alright. _

_I have no clue where I'll be five years from now. _

_Will I even still be there? Accidents happen all the time. I think I realized how fragile and weak we actually are after Aerith died. She was the kind of person you'd think would live until she was a 100 and die in her sleep. Because why wouldn't she? As a matter of fact, why shouldn't we all? I guess this is what they mean when they say life is unfair. I suppose it really is. I would know._

_Then again, would I? Is my life really that terrible? It's a subjective thing. I think my life could have turned out to be so much better. Some other person might think I've been extremely lucky. Another might pity me. _

_Why can't we all be objective? Impartial? Why do emotions blind us so much, make us hesitate when we shouldn't? Why did I hesitate when the detective asked me about you all, even after my father and Aerith had died, even after I'd almost been raped and killed? I should have said your names without thinking twice about it. I don't know what I would have said if Zack hadn't stepped in. _

_I saw Reno the other day. He was sitting at a table with friends from university, drunk as usual. I'm not sure he saw me. I didn't talk to him. We lost contact after he left Nibelheim. I don't think I wanted to talk to him._

_Do you know whom I also met? Detective Reeve. I don't think you ever talked to him. He came in to have a drink, and he recognized me. He wouldn't tell me how come you guys got away with nothing, but once he was drunk, he let it slip that he liked his new job "much, much better", and that his boss's name was Fair. Zack had a brother who worked as a policeman, no? A last trick up his sleeve, indeed. I wasn't even surprised. _

_Did you know Zack died not so long ago? I don't even know when exactly. It was on TV: "Young soldier saves his comrades, dies a hero." I think he wanted to die. The last time I saw him, he wasn't the same guy. Like a body working on auto-pilot. No soul. _

_Sometimes I remember our days in Nibelheim, and I hate you._ _But I hate myself most of all. Because I could have stopped you. _

_I could have stopped you, damn it. _

_—_

_Vincent moved out almost three weeks ago. We didn't have a fight. He just moved out to place closer to university. It's weird living alone again. Vince and I were roommates for two years. _

_It's been four years since I last saw you. Since you disappeared. _

_I often wonder why I still care. The answer is so simple that it makes me feel stupid. But I still wonder. Why should I care?_

_Why should you?_

_I don't know if you do, obviously, but I like to think it's the case. _

_Denzel and Elmyra moved Midgar. I don't know if you live here too, and I'm sure you don't read these emails, but I figured you should know. _

_Denzel is already fourteen. He's going to be entering a high school near my apartment. They didn't want to stay there and have him attend Nibelheim High. _

_I understand the feeling. Sometimes I want to go back and burn down the school, the town, everything associated to it. Like it would make everything right. It wouldn't. It'd make everything worse. _

_Denzel is always over here; he spends more time with me than with Elmyra. I think she's come to dislike me, even if she won't admit it. It's like I'm taking away her last child; Aerith died, you left, Denzel is attached to me. It's partly your fault. Elmyra was in no state to take care of him, so I did. He's a sweet kid. _

_It's like I can't ever really let go of things. I still want to help you. I want to help Denzel. I want to help Vincent. Look where that got me in Nibelheim. Look at me now writing messages to a man who abandoned me and his family. _

_Why can't I ever let go?_

_I keep searching for you. _

_I can't help it. I don't even care about the pain it causes me anymore. I just live with it. _

_I'll be walking in a crowd, or going down the stairs in a public place, or at a restaurant, or every fucking time the door of the bar opens. I'll hear the chime, and raise my head; if it's man with blonde hair, my heart does this little thing where I feel sick and anxious. Of course, I'm always disappointed. _

_It's tiring._

_I wonder when it'll end. _

_—_

"It's really strange."

"What is?"

"The fact that you're always here. Don't you have a job?"

Cid rolled his eyes. "Of course I do. Only it's part-time." He waved his cigarette around. "I'm getting old, you know?"

"I noticed," Tifa mumbled.

"What was that, Lockheart?"

She chose not to answer, concentrating instead on washing the dirty dishes. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the bar was closed. Of course, that didn't stop Cid Highwind from coming over to pester her and eat for free. That had been their routine for nearly two years now. She liked to pretend it bothered her, not that he ever bought the act.

"How's Valentine, by the way?"

She shrugged. "From what I heard, good. Caught up in final exams, though, so I haven't seen him in a while, but we talked on the phone a week ago."

Cid grunted, apparently satisfied with her answer. He'd taken to monitoring her friendship with Vincent now that the latter had moved out, as if he feared they would lose contact if he wasn't watching over them. At first, Tifa had found him obnoxious—and still did—but she couldn't deny he had a point; she didn't put in as much effort as she could nowadays.

Tifa was about to ask Cid about his wife when Barrett stormed in, an enraged look marring his features.

"Fucking piece of shit!"

Tifa blinked. It wasn't rare for the owner to act this way. She wondered what had happened this time. Cid turned around, lighting up a new cigarette.

"Damn it, don't interrupt a perfectly good conversation."

"My truck broke down again!"

At this, Cid's eyes became even more alive. He could smell money. Tifa shook her head as they argued about price. She hadn't messed with a car in four years.

"Tifa, do me a favour, please."

She raised an eyebrow, not even bothering to look at Barrett. "What?"

"Can you bring the truck to the garage? There's this parent-teacher reunion at Marlene's school, and I can't miss it."

She grimaced. But she knew why he was asking this. Marlene, his twelve year old daughter, had been terribly disappointed when her father hadn't attended the last reunion. She glanced at the clock—it was currently 15:13, and Barrett needed to be there at four o'clock. She sighed.

"Alright."

"You goddamn bastard. I could repair it!" Cid drowned his tea in one gulp, slamming the cup on the counter. Tifa winced, afraid it would break.

Barrett ignored him. He wrote down an address, and gave the slip of paper to Tifa. "It's not far." His eyes narrowed. "Be back for five for the opening."

"Hm hm. Sure thing."

He left, muttering about taking the bus. Cid also got on his feet, shrugging his jacket on.

"Can't believe him."

"You charge way too much, Cid."

"Hey, a man's gotta live, damn it."

"Oh, spare me."

They exited the bar into the November air. Tifa groaned when she felt the drizzle of the freezing rain.

"See you, Cid."

"I still say he could have asked me," he yelled after her.

Barrett's truck was an old beat-up thing he couldn't bring himself to part with. She didn't see why he even owned a car in the city; he spent more time in the Midgar traffic then he did at work. She climbed inside, driving towards the garage. She was tempted not to, and to instead take a look under the hood to figure out what was wrong with the truck, but as usual, the impulse vanished in an instant.

The garage was situated on the corner of a boulevard; they had left the doors open despite the rain, and Tifa could see the guys at work. She got out, and one of the mechanics immediately spotted her. He grinned, and it was unpleasant enough to make her cross her arms over her chest.

She knocked on the hood of the vehicle. "Seems like it broke down again. My boss asked me to bring it so you guys could take a look."

The guy nodded, his smile not slipping. "No problem, doll. I'm kinda busy at the moment, but I'll call someone for you."

She resisted the urge to glare. "Thanks."

"Strife! Come over here!"

She went still. What were the odds, really? She didn't turn around as the sound of footsteps got closer.

"Tifa…?"

Tifa felt herself go numb, saw the world spin, heard the echo of his voice in her ears. She forgot to breathe. Her first instinct was to run away, and she was drenched before she realized that she had indeed walked out in the rain.

She clasped a hand to her mouth; her breathing was ragged.

"Tifa, wait!"

She could feel the heat of his body behind her, sense his presence, smell his distinct scent of fresh laundry and motor oil. Deep down, she was aware they were all memories.

"Just do whatever you need to with the car." Her voice caught on the last word.

"Tifa, please."

_Stop saying my name._

"I'll call in a couple of days."

She rushed to the nearest bus stop, doing her best to dismiss his voice calling out to her. It was only once she was in the bus that she realized she hadn't even looked at him. She let her head fall against the window, closing her eyes.

She had been afraid. She wasn't sure of what. She had been afraid.

And angry—so, so angry.

But mostly, she wanted to cry.

She did her best to stop thinking about the encounter. She thought she had dreamed until Barrett asked her about his car, and she realized she needed to call the garage. It was a Tuesday evening, the bar was nearly empty except for a few patrons and Cid, and Barrett insisted she phoned them right now before they closed. Her hands shook as she searched for the number in the directory. She cleared her throat several times as the phone rang. Hopefully they were already closed—

"Thompson's Garage, can I help you?"

Damn it.

She inhaled deeply. "Yes, I'd like to speak to Cloud Strife please."

Cid spat out his drink. "Who?" He yelled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Yeah, just a moment."

Tifa clenched her hands tightly to stop the tremors.

"This is Cloud; who am I speaking to?" Her heartbeat picked up.

"Hi, this is Tifa Lockheart, I said I'd call you regarding the car I dropped off three days ago."

"I know who you are, Tifa."

"Oh, it's just that I wasn't sure you would recognize my voice." She could hear the malice in her words.

Cloud's breath hitched. Cid's eyes widened, and his jaw slackened.

"So?" She added, feeling both a little guilty and impatient.

"You can come pick it up whenever." His voice had become rough.

"Fine."

"Thank you for your business." He hung up. She did the same.

Cid was cleaning up the mess he had made. "You didn't mention you ran into that damn kid."

She shrugged, doing her best to appear nonchalant. She knew she wasn't fooling him.

She wasn't fooling anyone.

_—_

The following day, Cloud was waiting in front of the bar.

Tifa came to a halt; he pushed himself away from the wall. She wasn't sure, but she thought he had gotten slightly taller. His hair was still as messy as ever, though maybe a little shorter. She recognized his leather jacket.

"What are you doing here?" She blurted out.

He blinked, taken aback.

"I just wanted to talk to you."

She bit back angry words, more preoccupied by the fact that he knew where she lived.

"Did you trace my back through the phone number?"

His gaze slid to a point over her shoulder. "Not exactly."

"Then—_oh, my God_."

He had been reading her emails.

She knew she had mentioned working at 7th Heaven. Words caught in her throat, and she choked. "You—"

"Tifa, I want to explain."

"Move." She walked past him, bumping into his shoulder, and unlocked the door that led to her apartment. She went up the stairs, knowing he would follow. And sure enough, he did. He stood unmoving in the middle of the room, staring at her.

She leaned against the kitchen counter, doing her best to quell the wrath she felt rising.

"You know," she said, looking his way, "the only reason I kept sending these emails was because I thought that if you read them, you would have the decency to reply, to just fucking let me know you were okay!"

Cloud came to sit on the stool at the small kitchen island. He lowered his head in his hands. "I don't know, I…"

"I hope it was fucking worth it, Cloud."

"It wasn't," he whispered. She could discern the pain in his voice, but at the moment it didn't matter. This was her chance to speak.

"Believe me when I say I understand you needed to leave. Believe me, I do, Cloud, but you didn't just leave us behind, you _erased_ us from your life! Would it have killed you to send me a text saying you were all right once in a while?"

Tifa wiped at her tears with her hands. Why did she have to cry so easily?

"Damn it, Cloud, I loved you, and you just abandoned me. You left me when I _needed_ you the most. An-and it's not only me. What about Denzel?" She shook her head. "He lost his brother, his cousin, and Elmyra wasn't fit to take care of him. For him it was like one of your mother's game. Like he was waiting for you to come out from hiding and you'd pat him on the head, and life would return to normal. I-I just—"

She let out a sob, and slid down to the ground, crying quietly. They stayed silent, immobile for what seemed like ages until Cloud stood up, and left. The door clicked softly behind him. Tifa dried her tears, re-applied makeup, and went down to work when the time came. That night, she broke a couple of dishes. Barrett took her aside to ask if something was going on. She said no, thankful Cid wasn't there that night.

It didn't come as much of a surprise when, two weeks later, Cloud was once again waiting in front of 7th Heaven, blowing on his hands to keep them warm. Faintly, she wondered how long he had been sitting there. He got to his feet when she stopped in front of him.

"I went to see Denzel," was what he first said.

Tifa nodded. "How did it go?"

"Pretty badly, I guess."

She nodded again. "He'll come around as long as you keep on visiting him." She brushed past him, climbing up the first step.

"Tifa, I—" He began, rather loudly, only to stop. She turned to face him.

"Yes?" She made sure her features were unreadable.

He raked a hand through his hair.

"I did read everything you sent me, but I couldn't answer. Or I _thought_ I couldn't. Leaving Nibelheim was easy, but staying away—that was different. I was sure if I began talking with you or Denzel, I'd waver, and…I couldn't do that, Tifa. I couldn't. I _needed_ to get out. I don't know what would have happened if I had stayed. I'm not…I'm not saying I did it the right way. I mean, I've thought about it over the years, but it never really hit me until you began sending me those emails. I didn't realize how much it would…"

"Hurt me," she finished for him. Her muscles loosened a little, but her heart kept jumping in her chest.

"Yeah," he breathed out the word. "It didn't sink in. Because I was so focused on what _I_ needed to do to stop hurting that I didn't think about what it would do to you. I was sure that if I ran away, all the problems, the responsibilities would stay behind." He pointed at his head. "But I realized they were here, always with me, and that moving from one end of the country to the other wouldn't change that. You and Denzel never left my mind, but I wasn't thinking straight. I thought I could do it alone. I thought I _had_ to do it alone. When I got that I was wrong, I figured it was too late."

"It wasn't," Tifa said softly. A man came out of the bar, and she moved aside, her eyes never leaving Cloud's.

"I know. I should have known back then. I—I suppose what I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry I hurt so much. But I know words aren't enough."

"You never were that good with words."

He gave her that little half-smile she had always adored. "No, I'm not. I was stuck in my own mind; it was like I was drowning in there, unable to just…swim to the shore. I think I didn't really want to. Because it would mean facing my problems, and doing that hurts. But now, I want to; I want to move on." He took a deep breath. "So I guess what I mean is, well... I'm back."

He held out his hand. Tifa knew to take it was the first step in her journey, the first weakness in the barrier between her and the world; that, one day, it would shatter into a million pieces, each one a bad memory, a trial she had gone through—all things she wanted to forget. But she knew now that she couldn't. That she needed to gather those pieces. That, at first, the sharp edges of the glass would cut her hands as she picked them up, but that they would dull with time. That eventually their magnitude would wane, but never be forgotten.

And so she reached out, and she had the same thought as when he had first held her hand a long time ago_—_that it was, unexpectedly, a perfect fit.

She smiled.

"Welcome back."

_—_

_—_

_—_

**A\N: **…It's done! *sheds a tear*

Before I go on, I want to say that I will be revising this story. Chapters 14 & beyond won't see much change, but before that, everything will be tweaked, some things entirely rewritten. However, it won't be for a couple of months. I'll also be putting up a FAQ, so don't shy away from questions! And now…

I want to thank all of you for the past five years. I know I made you wait, but you stuck with me, and it means the world to me. Thank you so, so much. Special thanks to my dear friend **demonegg**, without whom continuing this story might not have possible.

To all of you who ever reviewed, you don't know how much I appreciate the time you took to leave me a comment; short or long enough to fill an entire page (you know who you are!), your reviews are all equally precious to me:  
**Niquie, Bluishorbs, Ch0k-naT, , Marisa, Just me, Follow-the-Firefly, riley-is number 1, missmurder16, Valentine'sNinja, Xxyuna4evaxX, LzE, jo, NeonXSuJu, Gues, mel, SaturnDrops459, butterflybookmark, Pangpong, sam, BananaPeaceMonkeyKarmi, Raika-chan, silvericedrop, 1244, chocolate stoked, Synchypn0tic17, Toriga-Okami, sakR9, REN0, Gues, Brandnewlacey, celestial spirit, flawinthemechanics, samuraidrive, Yuleen75, Moving-at-the-speed-of-Alli, Toons, swingset, mel, blue ashes89, guest, mischkaaa, , slideshow, TheMagicalTapeworm, JulietaSurvived, Callout, elebelly, Vulcan Halps, eclect, Chocoboface, DynastyWARRIORS, scarletdeathangel05, maluka, Kat, Isler, hellobabybunnies, none, misanthropic angel, Artfully Troublesome, Cerberus angel, LoveIsAForceOfNature, mystic-fey, SugarHoney91, xOx-Waiting-For-My-Vampire-xOx, preciouslittle, AngelofMist, BlueWings92, starySymphony, bikerbrat, tacks, weepingphoenix101, , cassiopeia09, tazuku, catharsys, ClotiNotCleris, ellumina, , Mystic Dragon Eyes, karin23, tifa07, Wings of Water – SKYE, , LadyJamie178, reader713, Alice-In-Wonderland101, kawinkydink, Lackadaisycal, Yumi Reitenshi, FrozenUnD's, UglyTruth, MsRainey, shadowneko003, Honest101, Teefie, Silver-Firelizard, Tori128, .Latter, K.T. Selner, d e le t e . s, Peachie-Trishie, LoveComplex3, Guest, Toons, katong0032, d0rkgoddess, demonegg, Bat, nitaBonita, dollyrot, Bailey, Fonther Arget, Lana Ves, Guest, Freedom Rionach, lili125, 7777, MonkeyPanda, Forever In The Fire, Rend, Cammy, SugarHoney91, Unknown, .White, blob, Eva von Dee, 3, vx-Luna-vx, Sheiky, Samus 117, Guest, anna, vLuna, magiccupcakes21, heloeyes12221, Cobaltcyrus, RebirthOfAshes, MinakoAino48, Lord Divestre Croft, JukedSolid, nothingavailablenow, RegalRose.x, FinalxFenrir7, Dani, fairhannabi, GigiThECraZyxxsilentAnna, Iris Irine, xPhiieebeex-ayannaaki, VenomousStar, kickstartmyhart, no-longer-in-use-101, Awesom3-0 900, Downtherabithole, myrthill, Ciara-Dragon, Misoso, alice, ElleRie, Thembra, Amber, OPFAN, Just Tacos, Guest, Darth Nihilion, faebsel, AffeGlass, Hegodart, Bmonti, Noyra, Stryper, Kaja, tofuricecake, DivineKitten, Guest, D, thedoggydog2, IshidaH, sourhead, KetchupApple, Numinous-Alqua, The Mattster, bonnie, Guest, AnimeGirl9297, J Luc Pitard, ObsidianButterfly28, cloudlover2989, anon, HeadtotheSky, manicbanana, Mako KeyBlade, anna-marie-diamondheart-900, kvcnext, SapphyreMyst, himetenshi, Whizzler, FuiRin, Guest, & beaucoup riant!**

_—_

And…that's it, guys! I'll see you soon!

S.K. Evans. (01.28.2013)


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